


The World is not Black and White: Book 5

by BritPrus8



Series: Grey Harry Potter Verse [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Character Death, Death Eaters, Dragons, Horcruxes, Multi, Psychic Abilities, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Triwizard Tournament, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24579214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritPrus8/pseuds/BritPrus8
Summary: Tales of pureblood culture, wizarding politics and a world of grey through the eyes of Roderick Lestrange, son of Rodolphus and Bellatrix, and Rosetta (Rose) Evans the bastard daughter of Lily and Severus.Nobody is perfect in this fic.In this Book:Closing off last BookThe Triwizard tournamentRoderick's life goes a lot downhill even though he finally has a son.Rose finds herself a loverboy she can't say no toAudrey faces her worst fearJoanne goes for the gloryHermione and Draco get closer by complaining to one another, the most british way to do thingsEngland and Scotland don't show up too much. Northern Ireland and Hong Kong are introduced though
Relationships: England/Scotland (Hetalia), Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Roderick Lestrange/Rosetta Evans, Viktor Krum/Rosetta Evans
Series: Grey Harry Potter Verse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612672
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

7 June 1994

It had taken them a little over 20 minutes to get to the hospital wing with their cargo. Rose still hadn’t woken and Hermione was sure at this point that it was only thanks to the Slytherin girl that they had even been able to make it as far as they had. Ron, Rose and Professor Snape had quickly been set down on hospital beds and Pettigrew had been placed in the centre of the room, guarded by the Slytherin girl and Sirius Black. Sirius Black who was on their side. The Professor had been the first to awaken of the two-unconscious people. The agonised sound that he’d let out when he saw Rose, who was as pale as death had been heart wrenching to hear. Even Hermione, with all her respect for authority, had never expected to ever hear such a sound from the Professor. She hadn’t even thought him capable of it. Madame Pomphrey was quick to reassure him that Rose was alive, just unconscious, though they did not know for how long she would remain that way before waking.

The Headmaster was quick to arrive, followed by the other Heads of Houses. He was quick to subdue Sirius Black, along with keeping the restraints on Pettigrew. He then turned to the fireplace and appeared to call for some people. As the Aurors arrived and took both wizards into custody, Sirius screaming for a trial the entire time, Hermione’s mind was preoccupied by what Professor Lupin had said to her.

He had called her a little dragon, talked of her parents as if he knew them. Hermione was absolutely certain that Professor Lupin would have absolutely no way of knowing the Granger family. Much to her horror that only left Hermione with one rational solution. Her parents who she knew and loved weren’t her parents at all. At least not biologically. The only way for Professor Lupin to have known them was if they were wizards themselves. Initially Hermione had hoped beyond all hope that she was an orphan of the light side. That her parents had been killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, as Harry’s had been. Hermione could have accepted that. But she knew that was not the case. Professor Lupin had referred to them in the present tense. They were both alive and she was not with them. There was only one reasonable conclusion that Hermione could draw from that information. If her parents had not thought her to be a squib then they would not have given her up willingly in all likelihood. Hermione’s working theory. Her only theory that fit all the evidence given to her by Professor Lupin and her pre-existing knowledge of the wizarding world. Was that she, Hermione Granger, was one of the freed. Her parents were Death Eaters and they were smart ones. It was the only reasonable conclusion she could make.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus had not expected this. Yes, he had known that Sirius Black was in the castle grounds. He had had Severus keep an eye on Remus Lupin just in case. But this…Peter Pettigrew was alive. And although it seemed that Sirius Black had inherited his family’s madness, of the death of Pettigrew and perhaps even the Potters, he was innocent. But it had not been Pettigrew that had shocked Albus the most this night. No. That had been the necklace clutched in the hand of Rosetta Evans. It was a horcrux, Albus was sure. No artifact in the world felt as dark as Horcrux’s did. He should know. Once, a long time ago, in a different life, Albus had created one of his own after all. That Horcrux he had destroyed decades ago. Alongside the ones that Gellert had created. He had hoped and prayed that Tom had never discovered this magic. Unfortunately. It seemed that he had. If he had created one then Albus doubted that he would not have made more. Now he just had to figure out how many Tom had made. Where they were. What they were.

It was easier said than done to say the least.


	2. Wizengamot

23 July 1994

The trial of the century. That was what the press was calling it. The retrial of Lord Sirius Black (though he had never in fact had a first one) and the trial of Peter Pettigrew. The accusations? For both Black and Pettigrew, aiding and abetting in the murders of Lord and Lady Potter, the murder of 12 muggles as well as the most serious crime in the eyes of the law; treason. So notable and publicised was the trial that the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had implored the Light Queen and Dark King to summon all of their Lords and Ladies to attend the Wizengamot for the trial, even the Great Houses (excluding House Black for obvious reasons).

Since the Heads of House Hufflepuff, House Longbottom, House Potter, House Bones, House Rosier, House Aiton and House Parkinson were all underage their closest living wizarding relative who was a member of their House, either by birth or by marriage, would be representing them in court. Namely Lady Dowager Rhiannon Hufflepuff née Ravenclaw, the mother of Lord Hubert Hufflepuff; Lady Dowager Augusta Longbottom née Longbottom, the grandmother of Lord Neville Longbottom, the acting Lord Longbottom since his father became incapacitated; Lady Dowager Cecilia Greengrass née Potter, the grand-aunt of Lord Henry Potter; Ms Amelia Bones, the aunt of Lady Susan Bones; Lady Dowage Matilda Rosier née Weir, the mother of Francis Rosier; Lady Dowager Isabella Aiton née Goold, the mother of both Lord Charles Aiton and Percy’s fiancée Lady Audrey Aiton; and Lady Dowager Gertrude Parkinson née Goyle, the mother of Lady Pansy Parkinson.

Percy would not miss this even for the most immense of binders. He had been able to grab himself a seat in the area for the public, on the level above the court itself, hidden from the view of those within it via magic. Currently they were watching as the nobles began to file in before the Minister himself arrived. The other representatives, elected from among the non-noble pureblood Houses had just finished arriving so they would be beginning to see the nobles arrive. The first noble born arrival was the lowest ranking, Lord Gilbert Gilmour. He and his family did not attend Hogwarts, preferring to home school their children so Percy had never seen the man with the long brown hair before. After him came Lord Richard Sheffilaw, a Gryffindor, his first wife had surprisingly been the eldest daughter of Lucius Malfoy. There were rumours that the blonde-haired man was considering remarriage. Percy was not surprised. Though he had not thought that the man would wait five entire years after his wife’s death to do so. Then the Hufflepuff Lady Wihelmina Wylie. She had given birth to her first child last year Percy recalled. A girl. After her came the Slytherin Lord Cato Hodge. After that man were the two youngest Lady Athena Mair and Lord Aaron Smith. Both had only recently turned 17 and thus become adults.

After those two the oldest Lord so far walked in, the Gryffindor Lord William Rennie. At 65 the Lord had fought in and survived both wizarding wars as well as outliving all but one of his five children, as well as three of his grandchildren. Lord Rennie was highly respected, if a bit of a hermit. Another Gryffindor followed him, Lord Alexander Stewart, who also happened to be the son of their aunt Roxanne, or Roxie, Dad’s youngest sister. Lady Elizabeth O’Connell followed him. The Irish witch had also never attended Hogwarts so Percy didn’t know much about her. Well other than the fact that she had become the Head of House O’Connell after her brother’s death. Said brother had been the fourth husband of Lady Zabini. Two middle aged former Gryffindors followed her; Lady Henrietta Howatt and Lord John McCulloch. Lady Howatt was the eldest of three sisters. Both of her sons had died in the war, the elder alongside his wife leaving their three children orphaned, the younger alongside his wife and their children. Her heir was her grandson Aeson. John McCulloch sister had married Percy’s Uncle Charlus. Other than that Percy did not have much on him.

Then there was Lord Giric Galbreath (a former Slytherin), Lord Charles Scot (a former Ravenclaw), Lord Stephen Goold (a former Hufflepuff) and Lord Tacitus Stevenson (a former Gryffindor). After them followed Lady Pansy Parkinson’s mother Gertrude who was sitting in her underage daughter’s place. After her came Lord Carl Prince. Like with other noble families the Prince’s were home-schooled so there was little information on the secretive family. Percy believed that the current Lord’s grandmother was from a Swedish noble wizarding family though. That or Norwegian. Some sort of Scandinavian anyway. Little of interest followed. Though more important Percy seemed to know them less and less as they went on. Lord Patterson (a house legitimised by Queen Victoria and given a place in nobility); Lord Gilchrist (the only interesting thing that Percy could figure out about him was that he was an albino); Lady Agricola Horn (her mother had died giving birth to her younger sister just after her father was killed in the war against Voldemort); Lord Leopold Moon; Lord Benedictus Young (the father-in-law of both Lord Patterson and one of Percy’s cousins. He had had 10 children with his wife Penelope Young née Parkinson, 6 surviving); Lord Gilbert Golightly (Percy was pretty sure that he was his fiancée Audrey’s Uncle by marriage); and Lord Horatio Slughorn.

Then in he came. The notorious Cornelius Nott, a widely known death eater who had escaped Azkaban through the power of bribery. His sixth wife Lady Claudia Greengrass had just died, aged only 22, giving birth to his fourth living son. With so many spares now with her having given him his youngest three, there was no reason for any pureblood family to agree to marrying a daughter to him. He whose wives had all died young. The man was either cursed or he had a bad murdering habit. Percy knew which one he thought more likely. Percy would not even think of the man as a Lord. Horrible as he was. The 66-year-old had thin grey hair and a large nose. He was stooped over like the subservient coward he was…that was a surprisingly Gryffindor like thought.

After he shuffled in there was Lord James Naismith and then Percy’s future mother-in-law standing in for her son Lady Isabella Aiton née Goold. After her came the black widow, Lady Desiderata Zabini. 4 children and 6 dead husbands along. She was set to remarry once more soon Percy remembered. The poor sod. To be fair to them Lady Zabini was absolutely gorgeous in all her Italian glory. House Zabini had originally been a great House of Italy. Lady Zabini’s grandmother, Lady Gisella Zabini née Volpi alongside her close friend Hélène Faraldo née Bonaccord had made the decision to flee to the UK after her husband was killed by Grindelwald’s Italian followers. They’d made it here with a few members of their respective families and had not looked back since.

Lord Wybert Selwyn followed the black widow. He had had four daughters with his wife so far, but no sons yet. Lord Virgil Vallance followed him in. Then Lord Garland Brown and the mother of the young Lord Francis Rosier. The boy’s father had been imprisoned in Azkaban after the war, but Francis had been barely a year old at the time, if that, and so had been spared, so as not to let the House go extinct. Lord Jacob Blishwick followed them. Then came Percy’s cousins’ grandfather Lord Alexander Moncrieff. His heir was a Slytherin so Percy’s family did not talk to them much at all anymore. The situation as much the same for Uncle Elnathan who filed in after Lord Moncrieff. Lord Elnathan Prewett was a Slytherin after all. And they ‘did not associate themselves with that sort’. Percy made a note to greet Uncle Elnathan after the trial was finished for the day.

Then came Lord Flint, Lord Guthrie and Ms Amelia Bones in the stead of Lady Susan Bones. After her came the Lady standing for Harry. Lady Cecilia Greengrass née Potter. Around him Percy could feel the excitement growing as they grew nearer and nearer to the arrival of the Great Houses. Before that though, Lady Cecilia’s grandson arrived. Lord Peneus Greengrass. Then Percy’s own dad. Arthur Weasley had not attended the Wizengamot at least since Percy had been around, with the exception of the death eater trials of course. That had been the last time so many Lords and Ladies had been assembled, though many more had been sitting in the centre at that time. He looked smarter than Percy could ever remember him looking, more serious too. It was shocking. He looked more like the Lord he was than Percy had ever believed he could. Lord Roderick Lestrange followed after him. Percy thought the man looked a fair bit off. Pale and almost scared. Percy supposed that it was due to what had happened to his parents in this room.

Lady Augusta Longbottom followed after him. The witch was just as intimidating as always. Though this time she was dressed in court finery and had lost the hat. Her father Augustus hadn’t ever wanted to lose his influence in the House, so he’d managed to sort out a marriage for his daughter to his elder brother’s son. Unfortunately for him the marriage had only produced two children, who had an age gap of 12 years between them. Augustus Longbottom had died fighting Voldemort’s army however, so Percy couldn’t be too harsh on him.

Then came the final normal Noble House. Lord Lucius Malfoy. Percy didn’t think on that bastard for much longer. He hated the man for his death eater ties. Not for the blood feud between House Malfoy and House Weasley that had begun after Abraxas Malfoy (19) had married Theodosia Weasley (15) back in 1726. According to House Malfoy Theodosia had been besotted with Abraxas and fed Abraxas a love potion and thus forced him to marry her. According to House Weasley Abraxas had raped Theodosia and forced her to marry him. Percy personally was inclined to believe that the two had simply eloped against their parents wishes and had not returned before the blood feud arose. Maybe that was just the romantic in him.

The Heads of the Great Houses began to arrive. Lord Reynard Ravenclaw came first, long black robes embroidered with bright blue birds swishing behind him. After him came his elder sister Rhiannon, who was standing in for her son Hubert née Hufflepuff. Then his eldest son’s wife. A Lady in her own right, Lady Godiva Gryffindor. The news that they had eloped last year had spread like wildfire. Judging from the glares Lord Ravenclaw was sending her way, that particular rumour held weight. Finally there came the one Great Lord Percy recognised on sight, not by their robes or his knowledge of them. Lord Silvanus Slytherin. The wizard who had failed to protect them from the basilisk underneath Hogwarts.

To Percy’s surprise someone other than the minister walked in next. He had not thought that Lord White would attend, as his presence would unbalence the Light-Dark magic ratio among the nobles, something which was illegal by law to happen. Light and Dark always had to be balanced after all. But the man was definitely Lord Arpineius White, his silver-blonde hair and purple eyes were very distinct. Since House Black was not sending a representative the only way that this could possibly balance out was if the Dark King was sending a representative. But no member of his family had been seen in decades, let alone the King himself. He couldn’t have sent someone could he? It was amazing enough to Percy that he’d even summoned all of the Dark oriented Lords and Ladies.

The air was tense as Lord White took his seat and Minister Fudge walked in. The Minister for Magic outranked all but the Light Queen and Dark King themselves. Percy found his eyes fixating on the back door. It wasn’t closing after the Minister. The Minister sat down, in a different seat than his usual one Percy noted. The door still wasn’t closing.

Silence reigned over the courtroom before finally he walked in. It was a child, a powerful child yes, but a child nonetheless. He had messy brown hair tied back into a small ponytail and green eyes. The boy appeared to have at least some Eastern ancestry judging from his colouration and appeared to be around 12 years old. His canine teeth protruded from his mouth like fangs, though he did not look like any vampire Percy had ever heard of. He went to sit in the Minister’s usual seat before finally speaking.

“I am here at the request of my Father, the King. You may address me as Lord Kirkland if necessary. Now. Shall we begin?”

He clicked his fingers and the back-door entrance for the Wizengamot members swung shut and the entrance for the defendants swung open.

“Peter John Pettigrew. You may now enter.”


	3. The Trial of Peter Pettigrew

23 July 1994

“A child??!” Lucius Malfoy’s cry echoed about the room. “You expect us to take orders from a child?” He addressed the Minister.

“Well now Lucius. He’s the King’s son. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

“Knows what he’s doing! The boy’s what, 12?”

“Lucius please.” The minister continued to try and appease the Malfoy who now had a number of others joining in his aggravation.

The child in question looked on bored at the commotion. Hong Kong couldn’t believe he was having to do this. Dad did say that he’d get him a new set of wizard chess and a lion if he did this. Leonard had asked for a Griffin but Dad said he wasn’t old enough. Even Scotland had agreed. And they never agreed on anything. Leonard was completely sure that this was a great injustice. He was over 150 now! ¾ of the way to adulthood! America got a griffin when he was 150! There were paintings! He’d seen them in the basement of one of their houses! So yes, this was completely and utterly unfair. Dad had better things to do though apparently, and he was getting a lion out of it he supposed.

Wizards were as annoying as he remembered. Leonard had managed to snag a year of Hogwarts out of dad back in the 1970s. A stupid boy had thought to bully him however. And well. That boy soon found himself lacking a couple of key limbs. Dad had grounded him for a decade after that. He was annoyed that he had to get rid of the boys’ memories. He didn’t regrow his limbs for the boy though. So, Leonard figured he wasn’t that mad.

“You cannot expect a child to oversee this meeting! He knows nothing of the severity of this situation!”

Honestly. And they called him a child. They were squabbling like cubs. Hong Kong figured he should probably say something…but on the other hand this _was_ very entertaining. He decided. Magicking himself up some popcorn Hong Kong remained sat down and quiet enjoying the show. His eyes went back and forth between those defending him and those who believed him an idiot. Seeing the rat rise in its cage in the centre of the room Hong Kong veiled them all from view of it.

“You know what?”

At his words all attention turned to Leonard.

“Yes your Royal Highness?” The Minister asked

His Royal Highness. Leonard quite liked the sound of that. Prince Leonard. Noice.

“Before we get started, we should take the register. Make sure everyone who’s supposed to be here is.”

“It has already been done sir. All requested to be present are. Except for those too young to be present.” Seemingly just realising what he may have implied the Minister started to splutter about how such laws obviously did not apply to Leonard himself.

“I _know_ they don’t apply to me Minister Fudge. Father made sure of that.”

“Right yes. Of course, sir.”

“Now if everyone could take their seats, I believe that this long-awaited trial is far beyond due to begin, no?”

Malfoy, Nott and Flint sneered at his words. But they sat. Finally, when the stupid humans were settled Hong Kong lifted the veil, revealing each side to one another.

The rat looked about ready to piss himself in fear. It was hilarious. His eyes darted between the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot rapidly, his nose twitching in panic. It took all Leonard had in him to not lick his lips at the sight of the fat juicy prey. He’d taste good, Leonard was sure. Maybe after his soul had been taken by the dementors they would let Leonard eat him. He was guilty on all charges after all. Dad had said so.

Hong Kong recited the words he’d read in the Wizarding Law book Dad had given him to read

“Trial of the 23rd of July 1994 into possible offenses committed by one Peter John Pettigrew. No known residence. The Great Wizengamot is now in session, Lord Leonard Long Wang-Kirkland-Beilschmidt presiding, akin son of his majesty the Dark King Landebert Kirkland-Beilschmidt.”

First part over Leonard continued “The charges against the accused are as follows. Accessory to the Murder of Lord James Charlus Henry Potter and Lady Lily Agnes Potter née Evans; Breaching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy; Causing explosion likely to endanger life or property; Espionage; Evasion of liability by deception; High Treason; Illegal Animagus; 12 counts of Murder; Perverting the course of justice; Support or meeting of proscribed organisations. How does the defendant plead?”

The rat spluttered. The Wizengamot muttered. Hong Kong raised an eyebrow.

“Not guilty?” It meeped out as a question.

“I see. Let the record show that the defendant initially pled not guilty. Lord Slughorn. If you would so kindly administer the Veritiserum.”

“Yes Sir.”

The rat attempted to struggle away from the potion. Unfortunately for him, he was, in fact a bit tied up in his cage.

“What is your name?”

“Peter John Pettigrew.”

Good. The potion was working, the glaze over the mans eyes told Leonard that.

“Were you the secret keeper of James and Lily Potter.”

“Yes. It was supposed to have been Sirius. But they came to me instead.”

“Did you purposefully and knowingly reveal the reveal the location of the Potter family to the so-called Dark Lord Voldemort or one of his followers?”

“Yes.”

A gasp was heard across the Wizengamot.

Right then. Have him summed up as a Death Eater now.

“And did you support this Dark Lord.”

“Yes. I had to though. He would have won if not for the miracle of Harry Potter.”

It took all Leonard had not to snort at that. After all. It’s not as if the Potter boy did anything. His mother on the other hand…

“When Sirius Black confronted you about your actions to aid in the death of the Potters, did you or did you not knowingly murder 12 muggles and injure many more by way of a Blasting Curse? Before so stating that Lord Sirius Black had in fact betrayed House Potter thereby knowingly and willingly perverting the course of justice.”

“Yes. I did. They were just muggles though.”

Around him Leonard heard some of the witches crying, other wizards were shaking their heads in horror.

“I see. And after this what did you do?”

“I cut off my finger and fled in my Animagus form. I hid amongst the Weasley family. They never even noticed.”

“I believe there are no more questions to be asked. The Wizengamot will now debate.”

Leonard raised a hand and recreated the barrier so the defendant, potioned up as he was, would not be able to hear or see the discussion.

The racket was immediately unbearable. There were screams of guilty, under duress and everything in between. Notably no person attempted to find him innocent on all charges. Leonard wanted this over and done with.

“Order! Order!”

“Now. There are 10 stones in front of each you. In answer to each charge you shall charm a singular stone either red for guilty, or white for innocent. When you have done so Fipny here, he gestured at the House elf, shall collect your stone in this bag. The stones will then be counted by an impartial representative of the goblin race and the verdict returned only when all judgements have been made. Is that Understood?”

There were several grunts of agreement.

“Now let us begin with the charge of Accessory to the Murder of Lord James Charlus Henry Potter and Lady Lily Agnes Potter née Evans”

All around him Leonard saw the wands being waved and stones charmed. He himself charmed his own red. The stones were collected and counted and so they continued with the rest of the charges. Finally, all were finished and Leonard accepted the verdicts from the goblin representative who had agreed to do the counting. He nodded his thanks and the goblin bowed back. Leonard faced the rat, who had been given the antidote and now appeared to be on the verge of tears.

“Peter John Pettigrew. On the charge of Accessory to the Murder of Lord James Charlus Henry Potter and Lady Lily Agnes Potter née Evans the Wizengamot finds you guilty.”

He started to wail. Leonard silenced him. It was annoying.

“On the charge of Breaching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of Causing explosion likely to endanger life or property the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of Espionage, the Wizengamot finds you not guilty.”

The first not guilty of the day. Leonard was unsurprised. Maybe they should invent a cinema screen to display memories. They had a pensieve already, Leonard was sure it could work with enough time and effort.

“On the charge of Evasion of liability by deception the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of High Treason the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of being an Unregistered Animagus the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of 12 counts of Murder the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of perverting the course of justice the Wizengamot finds you guilty. On the charge of Support or meeting of proscribed organisations the Wizengamot finds you guilty.”

The rat appeared to be completely defeated now.

“Peter John Pettigrew. In the name of their Majesties Landebert Kirkland-Beilschmidt, by the Grace of the Gods, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Dark King and Elizabeth II By the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Light Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, I Lord Leonard Long Wang-Kirkland-Beilschmidt do hereby sentence you to life imprisonment in the depths of Azkaban. Accept this as mercy. For a traitor such as yourself deserves the Dementor’s Kiss. In order to ensure that you no longer attempt to transform into the rat you are I shall be binding your magic entirely.”

A mumble of confusion arose amongst the Wizengamot. That such a thing surely was not possible. Leonard had to take a breath after that long speech. Freaking titles. Look at him being all merciful though. Not even giving him the dementors kiss outright. Dad owed him a seal for this. Seals were delicious.

“Once it erupts, I am sure the Dementors shall enjoy their meal. I hope for your sake you die of illness or starvation before that happens.”

The rat fainted and Leonard gestured for him to be taken away. The rat never had to know that he’d bound his magic before he even began questioning him. Leonard wasn’t an idiot after all.

Now it was time for the second trial of the day.

“Right now. Everyone ready for Sirius Black? Or do we need a tea break?”


	4. The Trial of Sirius Black

23 July 1994

Sirius walked into the courtroom. He had expected a multitude of Lords and Ladies to be present. But not to this extent. It seemed that all of wizarding nobility had turned out for this trial. And, judging from the fact that sitting on the main seat was not the Minister for Magic, unless he had been de-aged to a 12-year-old boy, Sirius could reasonably conclude that His Royal Shittiness had sent one of his offspring to oversee proceedings. If Sirius did not know that questioning the boy’s presence would harm his case, he would have mentioned it. But considering his likely father had broken Sirius out of Azkaban, remarking on the boy’s presence probably would not have been wise. Or maybe he should call the creature out on it.

Luckily for Sirius before he could make such a decision the boy in question began the proceedings against him.

“Trial of the 23rd of July 1994 into possible offenses committed by one Sirius Pollux Orion Black, by the Grace of the Dark King, Lord Black. Residing at Black Town House, Location Unknown. The Great Wizengamot is now in session, Lord Leonard Long Wang-Kirkland-Beilschmidt presiding, akin son of his majesty the Dark King Landebert Kirkland-Beilschmidt.”

“As this is both a retrial for offences possibly committed prior to 1981 and a trial regarding offences possibly committed over the course of the past year this section shall be split into two. The charges prior to 1981 against the accused are as follows. Accessory to the Murder of Lord James Charlus Henry Potter and Lady Lily Agnes Potter née Evans; Breaching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy; Causing explosion likely to endanger life or property; Espionage; High Treason; 12 counts of Murder; Support or meeting of proscribed organisations. The charges against the against the accused following his escape from Azkaban Wizarding Prison are as follows. Escaping from lawful custody without force; Illegal Animagus; Making threats to kill; Perverting the course of justice.”

Sirius gulped at the second part. The first he knew himself innocent of…but the second. The second was all true. The boy, apparently named Leonard looked up from his paper at him.

“How does the defendant plead?”

Sirius figured in this instance it was probably better to tell the truth.

“Innocent of all charges prior to 1981. Guilty of Escaping from lawful custody without force, Illegal Animagus, Making threats to kill, and Perverting the course of justice.”

“Very well. The trial shall proceed only on the charges prior to 1981. Slughorn. Veritaserum.”

Sirius accepted the potion with a nod at Lord Horatio Slughorn. Hopefully what he believed to be true was in fact the truth.

“What is your name?”

“Sirius Pollux Orion Black.”

Being under the influence of the potion was odd. Sirius did not feel entirely present. After the question had been asked his mouth appeared to have begun to move by itself.

“Were you the secret keeper of James and Lily Potter.”

“No. Peter was. I was supposed to have been. Gods it should have been me.” Against his will Sirius found himself tearing up.

“Did you purposefully and knowingly reveal the reveal the location of the Potter family to the so-called Dark Lord Voldemort or one of his followers?”

“No. I didn’t even know where they lived until they had died.”

“And did you support the so-called Dark Lord Voldemort and/or his organisation.”

“No. I would never stand by a Dark Lord. I’m Light at heart.”

From his headspace Sirius could see the boy lift an eyebrow at that. Fuck. Hopefully he didn’t use that against him.

“I am sure. So you do not support my father the King?”

Muttering spread across the court. One of Sirius’ charges was treason after all. House Black was sworn to the Dark King. Not the Light Queen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Of course, I support him. House Black is sworn to the Dark King and his descendants in perpetuity.”

Huh. That surprised Sirius himself. Judging from the look on the boy’s face before a careful mask of blankness overtook it it surprised him too.

“Recall to the Wizengamot the events following the murder of Lord and Lady Potter by one Thomas Riddle.”

“Dumbledore told me of their deaths the night that it happened. I was mad. I left my bike with Hagrid to take Harry to his relatives. I thought he would go to Cecilia. I went to hunt Peter down. To take revenge for their deaths. When I finally found him, I screamed at him. I was not able to shout my accusations before he could shout his. Then he shouted out the blasting curse, killing the muggles and injuring many more, including myself. I was knocked out. The next time I woke up I was already in Azkaban.”

“I see. Thank you, Lord Black. The Wizengamot shall now break to discuss.”

He waved his hand and suddenly Sirius could no longer see them. It appeared that like his father he was terrifyingly powerful. That was fucking reassuring. _Oh hush._ And the voices were back. Great. Just Great.

Before he knew it Sirius was once more clear of head and the Wizengamot was visible again.

“Sirius Pollux Orion Black. On the charge of Accessory to the Murder of Lord James Charlus Henry Potter and Lady Lily Agnes Potter née Evans the Wizengamot finds you innocent. On the charge of Breaching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy the Wizengamot finds you innocent. On the charge of Causing explosion likely to endanger life or property the Wizengamot finds you innocent. On the charge of Espionage, the Wizengamot finds you not guilty. On the charge of High Treason the Wizengamot finds you innocent. On the charge of 12 counts of Murder the Wizengamot finds you innocent. On the charge of Support or meeting of proscribed organisations the Wizengamot finds you innocent.”

That was a relief. Now it all came down to his punishment for the crimes he did commit. He’d probably be sent to Azkaban for the Animagus one. Sirius knew that. He could do it. He’d done Azkhaban for 12 years. A couple of months wouldn’t be worse than that. It would be fine. It would be fine. It would be fine.

_Sirius. Calm down and listen you fucking idiot._

Stupid voices lecturing him. He did start to listen though

“-name of their Majesties Landebert Kirkland-Beilschmidt, by the Grace of the Gods, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Dark King and Elizabeth II By the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Light Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, I Lord Leonard Long Wang-Kirkland-Beilschmidt do hereby sentence you to six months of house arrest and a fine of 100 galleons to be paid to the Crown.”

Sirius looked up at him shocked. The Wizengamot obviously was too judging from the mutters.

“In light of your obvious false imprisonment a full investigation will also be conducted by neutral parties into Ministry actions following the downfall of the so-called Dark Lord Voldemort. On behalf of my Father and the Crown I apologise to you for allowing this injustice to happen to a member of our most loyal House.”

Sirius almost began to grin at that. It served them right.


	5. Cousins

August 1994

Prince Manor looked almost exactly the same as the last time that Severus had been there. Though he was a different man then. His first visit to his Mother’s family home had been as a death eater. While his mother’s younger sister Elizabeth had married a death eater the remainder of the family, however small it was, had stayed loyal to the Dark King. The Dark Lord had not liked that and had sought to install Elizabeth’s second son Felix as Lord Prince. Severus’ first visit to his mother’s childhood home, the first time he had ever laid eyes on any member of her family other than Lady Elizabeth, had been to raid it and extinguish all other members. Severus had been the one to catch his Uncle’s wife attempting to flee with three of his young cousins. He had raised his wand at them.

But he had cast no spell. The Dark Lord had never discovered who had let Lady Prince go, along with the heir, the youngest son and the only daughter of Lord James Prince, who was tortured before being killed by his own sister Lady Elizabeth Rosier née Prince. Severus thanked the gods for that. Even though he himself had never killed any of his mother’s family, that did not mean that he was particularly keen to see them again. House Prince had disowned his mother when she had married Tobias after all, possibly with good reason in retrospect. And he had been a death eater. A member of the rebellion that had seen to the death of four Prince’s. He had not been invited to this house. Not ever. But now…there was no one that Severus trusted to take in his granddaughter. But the Prince’s were certainly a better option than Lily’s father Roderick Lestrange. He was Bellatrix’s son. His wife may have been a member of House White, but Severus was under no illusion that if she thought it necessary to sustain her own power that she wouldn’t have his little Lily-flower have a tragic accident in Lestrange Manor and sadly die.

If he hadn’t seen the state of Henry Potter then he might have gone to Petunia for aide. But the state if the boy displayed all of the signs of borderline abuse. So here he found himself. Staring up at the country house of House Prince. Preparing to beg his cousin Charles for help. Maybe his mother would intervene on Severus’ behalf. Aunt Lucinda did owe him for allowing her to flee after all. Saying it like that did not sound too convincing of an argument. Severus took a deep breathe in and walked up to the door. They may have been family by blood. But that did not give him the right to floo into their house. He knocked and waited.

As expected, one of their house elves came to the door to let him in. The Entrance hall was bluer than he remembered. They must had had it redone at some point since their raid in 1975.

“Lord Prince will see you now” A different house elf came and led him into Charles’ study. He was greeted by the man. With his wavy black hair and piercing green eyes the 28-year-old Lord bared a passing resemblance to Henry Potter. It was all in the colouring though. His features were starkly different to the mixed-race boy.

“Cousin Severus. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Charles raised an eyebrow.

“A favour I hope you’ll find yourself able to grant me cousin.”

Charles nodded at the other seat in his office.

“Let’s have a chat about that. Then we’ll see whether or not I’ll be able to grant you this favour.”

Severus nodded back at him and took the seat offered. “My thanks cousin.”

“So. What is it you want from me? Money?”

Severus snorted. “No thank you. I make quite enough from my potions patents.”

Severus rearranged himself in his seat. “What I’m asking from you may require quite a bit more work I’m afraid.”

Charles places his hands together and rested his chin on them. “What do you want from me Severus.”

Severus sighed. “It’s my daughter.”

Charles looked surprised. “A marriage contract? I could probably find a German or Scandinavian family willing to have her? Well. For a third or fourth son.”

“It’s a little bit too late for that I’m afraid.”

“Ah shit. That sucks. Wait. Are we talking death or bastard child?”

Severus looked at him blankly for a moment. “Illegitimate child!”

“Right…Sorry. You want me to find some muggles to take it in?”

“No! Rose is keeping her daughter. She’s staying at Hogwarts for her final year though. And since I work full-time there…well we need someone to take her in during term-time. I would leave it to the father. But he’s a Lestrange.”

“THE Roderick Lestrange!? I mean gramps says he’s hot. But she could have chosen better.”

Severus didn’t want to get into the first half of that sentence “Tell me about it. But the situation remains. Would you be willing to do this?”

“I owe you a life debt cousin. I literally cannot refuse this. Besides, Marie and I have babysat a lot for Gramps. And Sophia could do with a little sister to play with.”

“Lily is barely 5 months old.”

Charles simply shrugged. “The point still stands.”

Severus still didn’t trust Charles. He seemed a bit too, not crazy, but definitely not sane. Then again Severus wasn’t the right person to judge someone based on their sanity.

“Thank you, cousin.”

“No problemo my wizarding brethren. Just floo on over whenever you need us.”

He got up from his seat and Severus followed in suit. Charles made his way around the desk and threw an arm around his shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“After all. We’re family you and I” Charles purred.

It took all of Severus’ willpower not to gulp at the sound of that. He almost regretted not going to Petunia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeey. Yeah sorry. I got bored and binge watched Teen Wolf instead. Then I got my results for this year and was distracted again (they were good). But I is back. Enjoy the slightly crazy Lord Prince.


	6. The Wedding

20 August 1994

Audrey didn’t recognise the woman she saw in the mirror. In the mirror stood a pureblood lady. With strawberry blonde hair tied back into a braided bun and the Aiton tiara resting on her forehead. A long white dress with encrusted with moonstones hid her body in its drapes. Audrey saw her mother preparing the traditional Aiton wedding robe to place about her shoulders.

“You look beautiful darling.”

“Thank you, mother.”

Her baby brother knocked on the door to escort her down the aisle, her Jo was maid of honour. Jo looked just as happy to be there as Audrey felt.

“Wow Aud. You look so pretty.” Charlie said, eyes wide.

“Indeed. You bring great honour to this family with your marriage my dear.” Her Great-Grandmother Rosetta was the one who said that. At almost 80 years old her once vibrant red Weasley hair had long ago faded to a pale orange. At her side great-grandmother Susanna snorted. She was almost a century old now and had fought ruthlessly for Audrey to marry her brother’s great-grandson Frederick.

Audrey had hoped that it would have taken longer for her great-grandmothers to finally agree on which house she should marry into. They had been arguing over that since she was born. She still remembered Grandmama Sue locking her in a room with Frederick Abbott. They still got along well and there was no doubt in Audrey’s mind that they could have had an amicable marriage. If not for the fact that Freddie was House Abbott’s heir and she was the heiress presumptive to House Aiton until Charlie had children. She and Freddie would remain nought but third cousins to Grandmama Sue’s chagrin and Grandmama Rose’s delight. Grandmama Rose had won the argument three years ago evidently, and so Audrey’s marriage had been arranged between her mother, grandmother great-grandmothers and Lord and Lady Weasley. Little to Audrey’s own knowledge. Evidently, they had gone into the arrangements trying to make a match with Lord Weasley’s eldest son by his second wife, with the heir to House Weasley already having been married off William Weasley was the next best option. Her Great-grandmothers had been incredibly disappointed to have walked out of the negotiations with a fourth son.

Audrey wished they’d walked out with no match at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Percy couldn’t believe he was getting married before Bill. Then again Bill was the favourite son. His mum’s eldest and Dad’s first with her. He wondered who would turn up to his marriage. He was a fourth son after all. Not the heir like Primus or marrying the only child of the late Weasley heir like Charlie. Their weddings had seen a turn out from many of the light wizarding families. Percy expected his to be much smaller.

Primus hadn’t come to Charlie’s wedding. He didn’t exactly get along with Dad so that was half expected. Mum and Dad had married almost immediately after Primus’ Mother had died giving birth to Cedrella. That had caused quite the stir in the wizarding world. Even Cornelius Nott waited the socially expected year after his wives’ deaths before remarrying. Mum had always made it very clear to Primus and Cedrella that they weren’t her children and that in her mind Bill should be the heir not Primus. If she was any less of a Gryffindor Percy had no doubts that Primus would’ve had an accident. As it was Primus and Cedrella had grown up somewhat apart from the rest of the Weasley children by a combination of their own wills and Mum’s. Primus still remembered what it was like to not want for money. Even Charlie couldn’t remember that.

Of course, they hadn’t been rich or even well-off, that hadn’t been the case for them since Silvanus Weasley had been the head of the family. His parents had been the most recent attempt by the Royals to end the blood feud between the two powerful families. As the son of the Slytherin Theodosia Malfoy the Weasley fortune had grown immensely under both himself and his father Ronald, mainly thanks to her influence. Of course, their wealth had then been greatly diminished after that. The first blow had been the immense dowry Ronald Weasley had offered for his granddaughter Theresa in the attempt to marry her into House Gryffindor. Lady Theodosia had evidently been livid when she’d heard of her Gryffindor husband’s plans. But by that point House Hufflepuff had made a suit and Lord Ronald had accepted. Then there had been the succession crisis that had followed the death of Lord Silvanus. He had had six sons that lived to adulthood. The first had only had daughters, Theodosia and Rosetta. The second had had two daughters and a son. Tertius had succeeded his father Silvanus, only to die a year later fighting Grindelwald and then his only son, unmarried and with no children, three years after him. The title had then gone to the fourth brother as his twin Quatrus had had no surviving children and had died in the war. It was then that Theodosia Weasley had attempted to sit her own son by the fifth brother on the chair of Lord Weasley. That had caused a civil war within the family, all branch families taking their own sides. The Weasley fortune reducing further due to bribes. Theodore Weasley had died in the chaos leaving only one daughter. He was only 17.

Quintus had won but his own son died soon after. There was a rumour that he had been a squib and Quintus had decided it was better to give up his claim than face the embarrassment of a squib heir. By the time Lord Quintus died fighting Voldemort, succeeded by the sixth brother Septimus’ eldest living son Arthur, House Weasley was lower middle class at best. By the time that Percy was born House Weasley had had to sell their manor house to continue living a comfortable life. As more and more brothers were born and years without promotion came and went the family had lost more and more money.

As the Weasley fortune diminished further the tensions between Percy’s half-siblings and the rest of the family grew. Primus had the ambition of a Slytherin, even if he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Percy had always thought of Primus as the brother most akin to him. Bill and Charlie may have both excelled in school, but they had very little ambition for their lives. Bill wanted to be a cursebreaker, not a bad paying job, and Charlie had fled to Romania to work with dragons before being dragged back to marry the last loose end from the Weasley succession crisis. The daughter of Dad’s elder brother Dominic. Primus had been married to a distant weasley cousin in 1985 much to his dismay. He’d wanted to marry another Lord’s daughter. For both dowry and influence. Mum hadn’t wanted Primus to get so much power and Dad had been worried about his ambition. Percy was just as ambitious as Primus. Just as book focused as him too. Unlike the other Weasley’s Primus and Cedrella were sensible and collected. A welcome break from his other sibling’s madness. Percy had made sure that their invitations were hand written by him and had hope that they would attend. He’d even offered the position of best man to Primus.

At least his marriage wasn’t to another loose end. Though it could be argued that they were still appeasing Weasley cousins since Audrey was the great-great-granddaughter of Primus Weasley. Percy winced at the thought of the Aiton girl. It was an open secret that Audrey Aiton was in a relationship with Joanne FitzJames. This may have been a relatively welcome arrangement for Percy but it certainly wasn’t for her. Percy had a feeling that they’d have to do a lot of bargaining after their marriage. And not just in order to find a place to live.

Percy looked in the mirror before him and straightened his tie. Behind him he saw his favourite brother and best man enter the room.

“Looking good baby brother. You ready?”

Percy grinned and turned to give him a hug.

“Primus. I’m so glad you made it.”

“Course I did. You _are_ my favourite baby brother.”

Percy detached himself and straightened his robes.

“Well then. I suppose it’s time?”

“I assume so. You shouldn’t like to be late. That’s the bride’s job.”

Percy rolled his eyes and made his way out of the bedroom to the marquis they were holding the wedding in. Percy hoped that his bride wouldn’t be too miserable.


	7. Quidditch World Cup 1994

25 August 1994

Rose was packing her bags at Prince Manor. She’d moved in after Dad told her that the Prince family would be taking Lily in over the school year. Her little flower was growing up so fast. Rose had been surprised when neither Roderick nor Artoria had put up a fight against her leaving the manor but she had a feeling that she shouldn’t question it. Rose figured it was her daydreams. While once they had simply sent her into a trance like state if she was awake now, they had her screaming almost as much as her worst nightmares. The snakes and the death she saw were all-consuming. Rose only prayed that they would never come to pass. At the moment she was packing her bags to attend the Quidditch world cup, she was only going with the FitzJames’ this year, Audrey was busy with her new husband according to Lady Aiton. Jo needed cheering up, she’d been miserable ever since Audrey and Percy Weasley had said their vows. Dad told her to come straight back to the manor after the game had finished. He’d even had Lord Prince fashion a portkey for her. It set Rose's nerves on edge. She already had a bad feeling about this. Having a portkey directly back to the Prince Family Grounds didn’t ease her intuition.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione wasn’t particularly keen on Quidditch. Everyone knew that. Unfortunately for her, her two best friends were Quidditch obsessed. So here she was, up before the cockerel crows getting ready to go to the World Cup Final. Lady Weasley had made them a lovely breakfast and the two dimwits weren’t even up yet. So, Hermione lit a candle and made her way up to Ron’s room. She really missed electricity at times like this. After the boys had finally trudged downstairs it only took a few moments before their breakfast had been scoffed down and they were walking to god knows where. It was barely 6 o’clock. Hermione was perhaps a little grouchy. Having her period come yesterday really didn’t help her mood.

Walking alongside Ginny it seemed to be an age before they finally met up with the two Diggory’s. Cedric was certainly handsome, glancing over at Ginny it seemed that they were in agreement at that. Perhaps this day out wouldn’t be so boring after all. When they finally made it to the top of the hill, they found themselves looking at a very unimpressive old boot. Apparently, it was a portkey. Hermione steeled herself. This was sure to be unpleasant. As she hit the ground hard Hermione’s suspicions were confirmed.

As they walked over the bridge of the hill they’d landed on, Hermione was greeted by the most magnificent sight she’d seen in a while. Witches and Wizards from across the world waved their countries flags proudly. Some bore symbols and colours she didn’t recognise. But to her surprise many she did. Ireland, the UK, India, Uganda. The colours were endless, the dress differing in style yet equally bright as one another. It was at that moment that Hermione really wished that politics were apart of the Hogwarts curriculum. It seemed to be one of the things that Wizardkind simply assumed everyone already knew. Information on the political situation of the wizarding world was shockingly hard to come by.

When Lord Weasley led them into a seemingly small tent Hermione was barely surprised to see that it was massive on the inside. Ginny led her over to the bunk they’d be sharing. Hermione enjoyed this part. She placed the bag with her books and clothes under the bottom bunk and stated up a conversation with Ginny. Their subject of choice was of course, the terribly handsome Cedric Diggory. Ginny would be fussing about Quidditch soon enough, but for now she was accommodating Hermione. For which she was grateful. The match was due to start at nine, so they had hours before they had to join the queue for the immense stadium. Normally it wouldn’t take so long but the stadium for this was so large that it took over two hours to check everyone in. Mr Weasley said they’d aim to leave at four so they had eleven hours to kill. She and Ginny decided to go with Harry and Ron to explore the campsite. Apparently, this could last for days.

When the time finally came for them to take their seats for the match Hermione found herself climbing more stairs than she had thought possible to exist in one place. They had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing the Malfoys and Roderick Lestrange. Though it was Lucius Malfoy that Hermione truly detested. Roderick Lestrange had only ever helped them and Draco…Well. Hermione honestly didn’t know what to thing about Draco. He was a spoiled brat and a bigot. But when Hermione saw the way that his father treated him, and the way he treated others, she wasn’t sure he knew any better. And if he did, whether or not he was too afraid of his father to say anything. Lucius Malfoy scared Hermione. He scared her even more when he knocked his cane against Draco. They were in public. If that was the treatment, he deemed acceptable in public, Lord only knows what he did in private. Neither Draco nor Roderick ever met his eyes directly. Hermione had noticed that. And it scared her.

His statement to Harry scared her even more so. As did the looks that Draco and Roderick gave them. Their lips pursed as if they were holding something in and their eyes determined as if warning them.

Hermione was soon distracted from her concerns by the entrances. She might not enjoy the game itself but the theatre was certainly impressive. Looking around Hermione thought she might have seen Rose, Jo and Julia alongside an older woman who must have been the FitzJamess’ mother.

The match went on for hours before finally Viktor Krum caught the snitch, but it was too little too late and Ireland won the match.

The celebrations for their win went on well into the night. From what Hermione could gather, Wizarding Ireland was still fully subject to the British Ministry for Magic. Much to her confusion. Hermione really wanted to know what on earth the politics of the Wizarding World were. If only History of Magic covered that. Magical Geography would be so very useful. As it was, she couldn’t find anything to do with countries in the library! Only conventions and statutes. Which, while fascinating, did not cover the basic knowledge she wished for. When she’d asked Binns he’d simply said that all the knowledge she requested should be in her own library. Then he’d gone and called her Miss Slughorn! How the ghost was still teaching was beyond her. Though that seemed to answer some questions. The pureblood families collected their own knowledge and horded it. The politics probably wasn’t taught in the hope that ‘lesser’ wizarding folk wouldn’t try to ‘rise above their station’. Thinking of their conversation now made Hermione start. She’d attempted to discover her parentage by contacting the ministry in June. They’d simply replied that it was classified, all but confirming her suspicions that her biological parents were Death Eaters. Since then she’d hit a dead end. She couldn’t even try going to the library because outside of Hogwarts there were no public libraries! It was truly a horrifying prospect. But now. Hermione knew that somehow many pureblood families had characteristic features through marriages selected for appearance. If Binns thought she looked like a Slughorn then that seemed to be the best place to start. She’d talk to Harold Slughorn in September. Ask him what he knew. Decided, Hermione returned to the festivities.

Then the chaos began. One moment they were teasing Ron for his crush on Victor Krum. The next. They were running from wizards wearing skull masks and dark pointed robes. The screams filled Hermione’s ears and the smoke from the fires being set and knocked over filled her lungs. In the madness they were all separated. Fred and George managed to stick with Ginny and Ron as Lord Weasley ran towards the cloaked wizards, wand drawn. But Harry had paused for a moment. Hermione turned back and let go of Ron’s hand to go and fetch him. But Harry had already been pulled away by the mob. She turned to look for the Weasleys. They were gone. Her head snapped back to where she’d last seen Harry. Only to meet the terrifying mask of one of the wizards. He raised his wand and Hermione froze.

A hand grabbed her waist and pulled her behind one of the tents before the wizards could cast him spell. Hermione turned only to meet the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy.

“You can’t stay here Granger. They’re after Muggles and Mudbloods. You wouldn’t want to be spotted.”

Hermione just gaped at him.

“The trees are that way Granger. Get running. It’s a race for your life after all.”

Hermione nodded at him and turned to run. Before she left she turned back to him one more time.

“Thanks Malfoy.”

He snorted. “Never, ever mention it.”

And so Hermione ran and didn’t look back. She could only hope that Harry got out of there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roderick cast yet another curse. His heart cold and numb. It had been like that ever since Uncle had invited him to meet a friend of his earlier that summer. Said friend had ended up being a disgusting looking baby/creature thing. That had been the remnants of the Dark Lord Voldemort. He’d had Roderick promise to serve him. Called him his precious child. His son in all but blood. He’d drawn a spindly finger across Roderick’s face and had his Uncle crucio him when he shivered in disgust. Roderick thanked the gods above that his Cousin Alexandra had been teaching him Occlumency since he was a child. Something told him that the Dark Lord would not be happy if he knew his true loyalties.

That brought him to today. The night of celebrations that had turned into a night of pure terror. He was a part of it. He was yet to cast a fatal curse. But something told him that he wouldn’t be able to put that off for much longer. He drowned out the screams surrounding him. He told himself that he didn’t want to hear them anymore. That he didn’t long to hear them screaming.

Roderick didn’t know how long passed after that. Perhaps seconds, maybe minutes. He couldn’t tell you. But he was struck from his spell casting stupor by a body at his feet. He looked down and saw the boy-who-lived, on the floor unconscious but not yet dead. Roderick knew that if he left him there then some other Death Eater would come along and either kill him or bring him to the Dark Lord.

His fingers twitched. The King had taught him a spell not long ago. A version of apparition that only apparition a subject, not the user themselves. He could send the boy somewhere safe. But where? Lestrange or Malfoy Manor would be idiotic. Hogwarts was impossible. Perhaps Hogsmeade? Or he could send the boy somewhere nobody would think to look. Somewhere no wizard knew the exact location of.

Roderick raised his wand, thought of the location and cast his mind there. When he opened his eyes, the boy was gone. Hopefully to the right location.

Roderick marched on.


	8. Chapter 8

26 August 1994

When Harry was knocked out, he was on the ground, having been knocked over and then trampled by the stampeding masses. When he woke up, he found himself in an extremely comfy queen-sized bed with curtains and everything. Needless to say, he was both confused and on edge. Where on earth was he? He pulled the curtains to and looked around. It was a posh room. The quality of the furniture and the decorations was all he needed to see to tell him that. The paintings murmured around him. A wizard’s house then.

The door slammed open and a child pounced on him. Strawberry blonde haired and green eyed the child appeared to be around 5 or 6 years old.

“You’re awake!” He shouted

Harry just blinked. Still slightly in shock.

“You’ve gotta get up now Harry. Dad says you can stay for breakfast but then we have to return you. I wanted to keep you but dad said no. So did Uncle Al.” The child bounced up spreading scaly green wings and rapidly flapping to the door before leaving. Harry blinked once. Twice.

Great. He was hallucinating now. The boy popped his head back around the door

“My name’s Seán by the way. Seán Vercingetorix-Kirkland-Beilschmidt. Your clothes have been washed. They’re at the foot of your bed.”

And he was gone again.

And then he was back again. “Oh, and Good Morning Lord Potter. It’s your honour to be hosted by my father.”

And gone. Harry blinked. It was probably too early for this but he was almost definitely imposing on whomever Seán’s father was.

Getting up Harry found that he was in a nightgown. That was embarrassing. It did give him an idea of the man who was hosting him. The man was probably a rich pureblood. Likely older. Harry gulped. The boy had said they were going to ‘return’ him. So hopefully he wasn’t a captive of the Death Eaters.

He redressed himself in the now clean clothes he was wearing yesterday, checked for his wand, which he found resting on the bedside table, brushed his teeth in the basinet in the room and went to leave the bedroom. The corridor was long and the doors aligning it numerous. Harry was definitely about to get very lost.

“Who the hell are you?”

Harry started. A 12-year-old boy with brown hair and the same green eyes as Seán was facing him.

“Hi. I’m Harry. Apparently, I’m staying for breakfast. Not sure where that is though.”

“Leo. Just come with me.”

Thank god for randomly appearing children. That sounded wrong even in Harry’s head.

Leo led him through numerous corridors and down at least two flights of stairs before opening a door to the dining room. Sat at the massive table was Seán along with three men who appeared to be in their twenties. Looking at them Harry shivered. He didn’t know exactly why. But all of his instincts were telling him to run or at the very least submit.

A blond man was sat at one end of the table, a red head at the other. In the centre sat a man with strawberry blonde hair who was periodically glaring at his companions. His eyes appeared to be oddly turquoise in colour. Opposite him sat Seán who waved. Leo went to sit next to the younger boy.

“Lord Potter.” The blonde-haired man spoke “Please sit. It’s a full British.”

The red head snorted in amusement.

Harry took the seat offered to him, next to the strawberry-blond haired man. His plate appeared in front of him, filled with sausages, eggs, beans, haggis, black pudding and nips and tatties. He noticed that he was the only one to get tomatoes as well. Harry kept his eyes on his plate as he dug in.

“Thank you for taking me in Sir.”

“Yes well. I couldn’t very well leave you knocked out on my carpet. You were dirty.”

Harry laughed. Then he realised that the man was absolutely serious. “Right. Yeah. Of course not.”

The breakfast was tense for Harry to say the least.

“I was just wondering. You seem to know me. What are your names?”

The red-haired man answered. “Alistair. That’s Arthur and that’s Dylan. You’ve already met Leonard and Seán.”

The silence returned. The only disturbance being the eating and the massive tension between the three adults in the room.

“Right. Nice to meet you all.”

When they’d finally all finished Harry nearly cried with joy as Arthur rose and gestured at him to follow him.

“Where am I sending you then?” He asked as they left the room.

Harry assumed that meant they’d be apparating. “The Burrow please.”

Arthur looked at him blankly.

“The Weasley family lives there.”

Arthur looked him dead in the eyes for a minute before.

“Oooh. Alright then. Ta ra! I hope to never see you again!”

“He-!” Harry was cut off by a claw to his head and a flash of light. Then he was in the burrow.

“Harry!” It was Hermione.

“Hi Hermione.”

“Oh thank god you’re ok. Everyone has been worried sick!”

“Yeah mate. Where’ve you been?”

“Funny story actually. I was knocked out during the riot and then when I woke up, I was in this rich wizard’s house. Arthur let me stay for breakfast and then sent me here.”

“Arthur?” Molly Weasley gasped from the side.

“Not Lord Weasley. Another Arthur. Blonde hair and green eyes.”

If anything, that only made Lady Weasley pale further.

“You know who he is Lady Weasley?” Hermione asked from beside him.

Molly shook her head and turned away. “Nothing for you three to worry about. Now get yourself settled Harry. Your Aunt and Uncle are letting you stay until term starts.”

With that Molly Weasley turned to leave.

Once she was out of hearing range Hermione spoke.

“We have to find out who that wizard was.”

“Yeah.” Harry replied. Ron shrugged


	9. House Arrest

1 September 1994

Sirius hated house arrest. Jane refused to move out of 12 Grimmauld Place much to Sirius’ dismay and she was still barely talking to him. Sirius had always hated this house. Ever since he was a child and his mother was going on about how he should be more like his brother. Regulus is respectful. Regulus is ambitious. Regulus is a prodigy. Regulus, Regulus, Regulus. At least there weren’t any dementors here, though Sirius still couldn’t quite get rid of the voices in his head. Getting to know the kids had been interesting at least. Turais looked just like himself, with the exception of his eyes which where a shade of grey so dark they appeared almost black. His son acted much more like Regulus had than Sirius himself. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Leo was his and Turais was Regulus’. But Sirius did know better, on that at least. He still remembered meeting the kid a month after he was born. It had been the last time he had seen his brother alive. Regulus had never told anyone who the boy’s mother was and since the boy was a bastard the family tapestry didn’t show him, or his mother. Leo’s character was odd. At some points he appeared to be a complete Slytherin, at others Sirius could see himself in the 14-year-old. Sarcastic, slightly crazy and a solid sense of humour.

_I like him_

Fucking voices. Though recently the voices in his head had reduced in both number and prominence. The voice of his Royal Shittiness remained. That and Regulus on occasion. It was obnoxious. Though he would take the monster over mother any day. He did wish he still heard James though. Sirius missed James like a limb. They’d been together through thick and thin since they first met as young children. They’d been first cousins once removed but after Dorea Potter had sided with the Light during the build up to the War so they hadn’t seen each other for years before Hogwarts came along. After that. Well they’d hardly spent a day apart. James had been his best man and he’d been James’. And then he’d died and Sirius had gone mad in his quest for vengeance. Leaving his younger wife and new-born babe with little to no protection. Remus said that he couldn’t have known what the Ministry would do. That no one could have expected the horrors that befell so many Dark families in the aftermath of the war, whether they’d supported Voldemort or not.

Sirius thought that he should’ve. If he’d been more like Regulus he would’ve. When Jane had told him of the origins of the necklace that they now knew to be a horcrux he’d laughed bitterly. Even now Regulus was a better wizard than him. He’d freaking turned on Voldemort in the most Slytherin of ways before doing the most Gryffindor of things to retrieve one of his Horcrux’s. If only he had told Kreacher what the locket was then maybe this could all have begun sooner. Maybe Jane would be in less of a state than she was now.

Jane. He couldn’t believe the situation his wife had been left with. Sirius had never loved her. He wasn’t even sure he had the emotional capacity to anymore. But he hated himself for what his actions had done to her. She’d been ostracised from the Light side because he couldn’t hold himself back when dealing with Peter. Her family hadn’t spoken to her in years. Their firstborn son had been murdered and his corpse desecrated as she fled. She’d then found out about the pregnancy and of course that meant that her family would never take her back with the babe of a Death Eater in her womb. And she’d been all but imprisoned in this dreadful house for over a decade, for years now it had only housed herself and the children. It was his fault. Sirius knew it.

_Nah. Not fully. A lot of it is probably on me_

Sirius grit his teeth and shook his head. Now with his nephew Leo having left for Hogwarts, taking Turais with them for his first year, though he’d be entering into second year. The only two left in the house were himself and Jane. At least while the children were there there had been a buffer between them. Now. Now they had to talk. At least. They should have talked. As it was, they’d been avoiding one another, sleeping in separate rooms, keeping separate schedules. Anything that made them less likely to see one another. She was still angry at him and trying to recover from the aftereffects of such prolonged exposure to a horcrux. And Sirius. Sirius couldn’t meet his wife’s eyes knowing that he’d contributed to her mental issues and their firstborn’s death.

That was why it was such a surprise to hear a knock at his bedroom door. He’d allowed Jane to keep the Master bedroom all to herself, it was only fair, this was more her home than his. He opened it to see Jane standing in front of him. Still dressed as smartly as a pureblood noble lady should be, even when she expected to see no one.

“You have a letter husband.”

Sirius glanced down at the offered envelope before glancing back up at her. She seemed less tired than she had been. The horcrux was finally fading from her system.

“Oh. Thank you…wife.” It was still odd to even think that word. He had been married for all these years. Two children. And he barely even knew their mother. Sirius looked down again. He’d never even bothered with her before Azkaban. When she had been so happy. So proud to be marrying Sirius Black. A fiery pureblood Gryffindor. And yet still a good enough Lady for his parents to have arranged a match. Jane was a shadow of her former self. Just like himself Sirius supposed.

She twitched, offering the letter to his hands. Perhaps this time. After Azkaban, he could finally get to know her. There wasn’t much else to do for the next five odd months after all.

He offered her a smile. As he took the envelope from her and opened it, eyes going straight to the signature.

“It’s from our godson.” He looked back up at her.

“Do you want to read it with me?”

A small smile graced Jane’s lips as she inclined her head.

Sirius stepped aside to let her in.


	10. Hermione Carrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genetics  
> The more magically powerful parent has dominant traits. Its why noble girls are married so much earlier than boys. Because their core has not yet fully developed so they’re less likely to be more powerful than their husband.  
> A witch’s core shrinks during pregnancy. Before restoring itself over the course of two years. That’s why many of the more douchy wizards knock their wives up with little breaks in between.
> 
> Reference to the forbidden love between Charles Potter and the incredibly powerful Zulu witch Ngqumbazi KaMpande, whose genes have held dominance through 5 generations. Until James married Lily. She was such a powerful witch in her own right that Harry ended up appearing mixed.

15 September 1994

Although they were less that a fortnight into their fourth year Hermione had already been almost overwhelmed. Of course, she was on top of her schoolwork, as she always was, but the additional research she was doing into the mysterious pureblood wizard named Arthur and her own biological family was equal parts fascinating and nigh impossible. Hermione had searched the library numerous times in search of even a snippet of information. Information of wizarding genealogy and genetic traits was rare, she had only found two books in the entire library since she started her research last year. And those only mentioned family traits and genealogy in passing. Even more impossible was finding any information on specific families. Many Arthurs had been mentioned in passing, but unlike some names, which were characteristic of certain families, such as the Edwards of House Weir or the Lavenders and Rosettas of House Brown. The name Arthur was as prevalent as Charles or Alexander. From Wylie to Weasley. Prince to Potter. As well as numerous ordinary wizards. Pinning down a singular Arthur was as tedious as it was difficult to locate the information. Whenever Hermione thought that she might have found the right one she was disproven. It was vexing beyond belief.

For a moment Hermione had considered asking Ron if he could point out particular House’s characteristics, but as a seventh son, and _Ron_ , that had been a lost cause from the start. Then she had wondered if Jo might’ve been able to answer, but she’d been wallowing in her misery ever since Audrey’s wedding. Now it appeared as if she’d reached a dead end in her literary research, which was extremely jarring. For once books couldn’t get Hermione all the information she wanted. Which meant that she was forced to turn to her last resort. Asking someone other than her best friends for help. Specifically, the lower Sixth Year Slytherin whom she suspected to be a relation of hers. Harold Slughorn. If he would even talk to her that was.

Hermione had decided that she’d approach him after Lunch. He’d be fed and not too tired. Hopefully that would increase his willingness to talk to her.

The Slughorn boy had curly brown hair and matching brown eyes. He was pale, but not eerily so. All in all, he looked eerily similar to herself. Surprisingly, at least for a Slytherin pureblood of his station, the boy’s best friend was Leo FitzBlack. That fact made Hermione a little more relaxed about approaching him. At the moment he was sitting with Leo FitzBlack and Sirius’ son Turais, who had been sorted into Slytherin almost before the hat touched his head. They had just left the table. Hermione excused herself from the Gryffindor table and made after them. She figured that the purebloods would be more likely to talk to her out of the public eye.

“Why are you following us lioness?”

She was right. Though she wasn’t sure how he had known.

“I’d like to ask you a question if you don’t mind.”

He turned to her and raised his eyebrow in question. For some reason a vast majority of wizards and witches appeared to be able to do that.

Hermione shuffled nervously.

“I was wondering. Well. I’ve recently come to suspect that my parents may not actually be who I thought they were. And well, I’ve been trying to figure out who my biological parents are. I was wondering if you could give me any information on that? It’s alright if you can’t of course. I was just wondering.” Hermione spoke quickly and with less clarity than she would have preferred.

Harold gave her a once over, looked her up and down before walking towards her and bringing a hand into her hair. Inspecting her curls.

“You have Crabbe curls. But they’ve married into a bunch of families. Their women are notoriously more powerful than their men. So the trait has spread far. Blacks, Lestranges, Slughorns, Galbreaths, Mairs, O’Connells, Goyles.”

Hermione sighed. She supposed knowing that she likely was the descendant of a Crabbe if her family was noble was useful knowledge. Then Harold spoke up again.

“But that level of curliness implies your Crabbe ancestor was either your parent or grandmother. So. There’s that.”

“Thanks. That’s actually incredibly useful information! If I can find any birth certificates.” Hermione sighed again. “Which isn’t likely.” She muttered under her breath.

Harold cocked his head at her. “My grandmother was a Crabbe. So, I have access to the family records. If you told me your first name, I could look for any close descendants if you like. The Taken usually kept their birth names. Like Helios and Selene Greenwood or Ethel English.”

At that Hermione began grinning widely. This was it! She freaking loved this probably distant cousin of hers!

“Hermione!” She almost shouted before calming herself. She was practically bouncing with excitement. After months there was finally progress! “My name is Hermione. Hermione Lorencia Granger. Though I suppose probably not Granger for much longer.” She smiled at him. Before looking at his face made her smile fall. Where Hermione had expected pleasant indifference and bland acceptance she instead was met with a pale face and poorly concealed shock.

“Leo.” Harold said.

“Yes?”

“Avada me now before Aunt Eugenia finds out that I forgot to search for her daughter.”

Hermione’s heart beat faster at that.

Leo FitzBlack snapped his head first to his friend and then to her.

“Ah fuck. You’re dead mate. What flowers would you like me to send to your funeral? Personally, I’m thinking something red. Maybe some Petunias? Match how red Lady Carrow’s face is going to be when you tell her.”

Harold turned his face away from her to glare at his best friend.

“This isn’t a joke Leo! I’m so fucking screwed. Wait. Maybe they never have to find out.” He turned back to her and took her hands in his.

“My lovely, dearest, most beautiful and merciful cousin. How much money would I have to pay you for this all to just…go away?”

Hermione blinked at the 15-year-old boy giving her puppy dog eyes in bemusement. Her _cousin_. Hermione could barely believe it. She grinned at him.

“Don’t worry cousin of mine. I’m a Gryffindor. I’ll protect you from my apparently terrifying mother.”

Harold blinked at her twice before sighing and turning to Leo.

“Your Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t mind if I had to crash in one of their guest bedrooms for a bit, would they?”

Leo FitzBlack simply patted him heartily on the back.

Harold sighed deeply before smiling at her softly. “So. Welcome back to the family cousin Hermione. Most of us have missed you.”

Hermione immediately pounced on him and hugged her new cousin tightly.

“You. Are going to tell me everything.”


	11. The Goblet of Fire

31 October 1994

Rose was terribly distracted. Headmaster Dumbledore appeared to be making a speech of some sort but all that she could think about was Lily. Rose hated that she had to leave her Lily alone with cousins she’d only recently met, but Dad insisted that she finished her education and Rose’s mind argued the same. Her heart disagreed however. Her mind told her to stay at Hogwarts for one more year, her heart told her to stay with her daughter. Her nightmares didn’t help. More recently the star of the show had been Artoria. Her purple eyes pale and unseeing as she lay dead on the floor of a grand dining hall. Cuts all over her body. It was much less horrifying than the dreams she had of little Esme Lestrange. Rose shivered remembering them.

These days she had nightmares at least twice a week. At least this year, just as last, the only girls in her dorm were Jo and McLaggen. Stewart, Weasley, Pennie and Beth had been married after fifth year and Audrey in summer. They had received some distressing news earlier this year. Stewart had died in childbirth. Rose had never liked the girl. But she’d never wished her to die. McLaggen blamed herself for it, it had been her that had suggested that Cedrella marry her cousin Sean McLaggen after all. Rose sighed. Courtney McLaggen hadn’t complained about Rose’s nightmares once. As a matter of fact, Rose was yet to hear her speak this year. McLaggen slept a lot Rose had noted. And she was already falling behind in her classes. Jo was worse off. She’d cried herself to sleep every night since Audrey had gotten married to Percival Weasley. It was heart wrenching. Over the past two months the melancholia that had set over their dormitory had been evident. Jo and McLaggen in particular had turned from argumentative rivals to quiet recluses. Rose’s own change in character had been much less evident, the only outward signs being the dark circles under her eyes from too many nights woken sharply and laying awake in bed seeing torture and death.

At least Jo appeared to have regained some of her spirit with the Triwizard tournament. As the goblet flared Rose realised with a start what the Headmaster’s speech had been about. As she stared into the flames Rose heard screams. Unmentionable spells flew through her ears and a graveyard appeared in the Great Hall. Rose began to breathe faster and faster until she was sure that her breathe would stop all together. Rose couldn’t breathe. Then suddenly she could again. It had been the same feeling, or at least a similar one, as she had when Professor Moody was teaching. Rose resolutely did not like the famous Auror. She could not tell you why, but sometimes she could swear that a shadowy snake slithered about him. Rose hoped with all her heart that she was simply going insane. That Professor Trelawney was mistaken in her views that Rose was an exceptionally powerful seer. But she knew in both her mind and heart that this was not the case. No matter how much she wished it to be.

The Goblet’s fire turned red and it seemed as if the entire hall held their breath, perhaps they did.

“The champion for Durmstrang shall be Viktor Krum.” Dumbledore read clearly and loudly.

Cheers rang out for the world-renowned seeker.

Krum had barely left the great hall for the adjoining room when the second name rang out.

The Beauxbatons champion was to be the half-veela girl. Fleur was her name. Many boys and a number of girls, Jo included much to Rose’s amusement, looked on dopily at the Frenchwoman.

Then the Hogwarts champion was announced and Rose was overcome with a sense of dread.

“Joanne FitzJames!”

Rose could not hear the murmurs around her. The shock that a half-blood bastard had been chosen. All Rose could do was fixate her gaze on her closest friend and stare on in horror as she turned, a somewhat fake grin on her face, towards the door.

Joanne had never even insinuated that she had any intention of throwing her hat in the ring. Or her name in the fire as the case may be.

Then Harry was picked. The entire hall went quiet and all could here as Rosetta Evans fell off her bench in a dead faint. To the outside she was peacefully asleep. Taken out by the shock of thing.

Inside Rose was wailing in a graveyard drenched in a soup of blood.


	12. Jo and the Goblet of Fire

13 November 1994

Jo hadn’t been happy for many months now. Not since the news had come that Audrey was to marry. The actual wedding had simply exemplified those feelings. Jo had been a terrible friend these past few months, both to Rosie, who had had to leave her baby Lily with cousins over the school year and to the still grieving Courtney. Though she wasn’t actually friends with Courtney. More like rivals. Though Jo didn’t know what they were rivals for these days. Neither had brilliant grades, that was where Rosie and Audrey had excelled. Nor were they rivals for the quidditch squad. Unlike Jo, who was absolutely sure she would never amount to anything, not in this world where blood purity and status were King. Courtney McLaggen had a future. Even if it was simply as a house witch. Jo had been petrified of what would become of her in the future since fifth year. Seemingly all of their female year mates were talking about the betrotheds they would be marrying come summer. And Jo had realised that that was the one thing that all witches seemed to aim for. Making a good match. Something that Jo could have never even dreamed of even if she were heterosexual. It was then that she had realised that the world she grew up in wasn’t made for people like her. Half-blood bastard girls whose fathers were dead. That she was destined for a dead-end job. That her chances of becoming an Auror were diminished by misogyny, pureblood preferences and quota Muggleborns.

And then the Triwizard Tournament was announced and suddenly Jo had seen her path to glory. To power. To fame. To a life where she wouldn’t have to rely on the small amount of money James Potter had put aside for her and Julia. It was enough to sustain them to adulthood. No longer. Jo figured James had planned to help them find an average job or third son to marry. He’d never lived long enough to do that of course. In Jo’s mind the decision to place her name in the goblet had been simple. In all likelihood she wouldn’t be picked anyway.

But she had been. Jo had been thrilled as she waved to the great hall which was cheering for _her_. That joy had been quickly cut short as she saw Rosie hit the ground in a dead faint. As one of the Professors escorted her out Jo couldn’t take her eyes off her. Rosie had nightmares. Seemingly all the time. But she’d never fainted before. It was concerning. Perhaps especially so considering how adept Rosie was at divination.

Of course, her concern had heightened as Harry had entered the room holding the champions. Jo didn’t know why her Lordly half-brother had been picked as a fourth champion. And honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. But at least she was there to call out the professors and ministry officials on their bullshit. There was such a thing as Veritiserum. And while it was illegal to use on minors Jo had been sure that that situation had counted as an exception. She had been right of course. Harry had not put his name in the goblet. Now there was only the worrying question of who had. 

Of course, Jo was not privy to that investigation and was more focused on what on earth the first task might be. She’d been going over every previous situation. While the ministry had said that this new version of the Triwizard tournament was to be much safer than the old one which had taken so many young lives that it had been banned for over two centuries, Jo figured it would still have similar tasks. With greater safety precautions. She hoped. Jo didn’t have a lot of hope for the future and her girlfriend was now a man’s wife, but she really didn’t want to die.

Jo also really didn’t want to do an interview with this bloody witch. Rita fucking Skeeter. A cockroach on society. And the obnoxious witch had tugged her brother into a fucking broom closet to interview him. They were literally in a castle. The witch had finished with her brother before turning to Viktor Krum. Seeker Extraordinaire. He had come out of the interview unphased. Unlike the other three the celebrity must have had a lot of previous experience when it came to such things Jo supposed. The half-veela, stupidly attractive Fleur Delacour had gone next. Jo was rather glad of that. Being alone in a room with her had turned Jo into quite the dim-witted fool much to Jo’s embarrassment.

Unfortunately, that did mean that it was Jo’s turn next. This might actually be the first occasion her bastardy may come in handy. No one would be interested in a half-blood bastard after all.

“And the last one! Oh, how time flies! Come along now, Joanna was it?”

“Joanne. Joanne FitzJames Ma’am” Here we go.

Jo was quickly pulled into the broom closet that was apparently Skeeter’s favourite interview location.

“So, Anna. Do you mind if I call you Anna? How will it feel to go up against the young Lord? Are you intending to aid him or to get rid of him? My rabid readers need to know.”

Jo barely held in a groan. Instead she channelled her inner Rosie and put on a friendly face for the cockroach.

“I would prefer Jo if anything Miss Skeeter. And while I am glad to be competing against so many formidable competitors, I will be competing for Hogwarts alone. I am sure Lord Potter has told you that he is not competing as a Hogwarts champion. That would be quite unfair. I shall of course pull Lord Potter out of any lethal danger he may face. But I would do that for any competitor.”

Skeeter blinked at her reply and smiled tightly.

“I see. What about the why then? Why enter such a dangerous competition? To try to impress Lord Potter? Or to restore your mother’s honour perhaps?”

“I sincerely doubt that you wish to write a scathing review of the social and political inequalities of wizarding Britain Ms Skeeter. Perhaps we should just call it something to put on my resumé and leave it at that?” Jo raised an eyebrow at the obviously annoyed witch.

“I see. A bit of an ambitious bastard, aren’t you? I suppose the actions of Lord Potter and his beautiful Lady Mother make you a bit insignificant in comparison, don’t they?”

Jo smiled tightly at the bitch; whose eyes sparkled in victory.

This was going to be a long day.


	13. The First Task

24 November 1994

Hermione was on the edge of her seat. It was finally the day of the first task. She was sitting with Ron; his new girlfriend Lavender; Rose; Courtney McLaggen, a seventh year; Joanne’s sister Julia and Julia’s best friend Katie Bell. Near to them were Neville, Dean and Seamus to one side; and Fay, Kellah and Emma to the other. Parvati was sitting with her sister Padma. Hermione was completely and utterly terrified for Harry and Joanne. She had been ever since they had walked into the stadium and set eyes on the dragoness. Of course, Ron had already warned them of the dragons. But still. Knowing they were the first task and setting one’s eyes on the creatures were entirely different things.

Rose and Julia both left before the matches began to go and encourage their siblings. Hermione was sure that Harry didn’t think anyone knew of his relation to Rosetta. But Hermione wasn’t an idiot. The girl was practically a carbon copy of Harry mother, save for her eyes. That in addition to sharing a surname with the late witch simply confirmed Hermione’s suspicions. But she was waiting for Harry or Rose to bring it up instead of confronting them. Hermione figured that there must be some good reason that they hadn’t brought it up. Hermione’s attention was quickly turned back to the dragon. This one was the first, a Swedish Short Snout. The silvery blue scales of the beast glistened in the sunlight and contrasted vividly with the golden egg it had been tasked to protect, which stood out among the snow-white eggs.

Hermione turned her head to the side as Rose and Julia found their ways back to their seats smiling. For once Rose appeared relaxed. As if she already knew that no terrible injuries or fatalities would befall the champions today. As the cannon sounded Hermione turned her attention back to the dragon which appeared to have been startled by the sudden noise. Hermione’s breath stopped as she saw the dragoness open its mouth as if to roar. Instead of a roar however Hermione heard a booming ambiguously gendered voice scream out.

“STAY AWAY!”

Hermione shook herself from her stupor. Surely, she had not heard what she thought she had. Dragons were not capable of speech. Hell, they weren’t even sapient. At least not to the best of their current knowledge. If they were capable of intelligent thought… Well that would bring up a great number of moral issues on both species’ sides. The dragons may not be killing purely due to their aggressive nature, but perhaps because they knew of the humans hunting and killing their kin for their strong and beautiful hides.

As Joanne walked out into the arena and the dragon screamed at her in both rage and fear to stay away from her Hermione’s heart beat faster. The dragon roared all sorts of insults at Joanne. Calling her everything from a filthy ape to vermin. It threatened to eat her if she came close to its clutch. To rip her limb from limb if she took any of their eggs into her monstrous hands. The pure fear and rage in the dragon’s voice shook Hermione to her very core. To think that Jo of all people could be considered monstrous to any creature was almost too much. Jo obviously was unable to understand the dragon’s cries as she simply lifted her wand against the oncoming blue flames and calmly put them out with a completely overpowered Aqua Eructo. Let it not be said that Joanne did not have the traditionally massive Potter magical core. Joanne then simply apparated herself next to the dragon. Picked up the golden egg and immediately apparated back to the starting point. She then turned to the judges and bowed before nonchalantly exiting the arena. Her entire task had taken less than a minute and had confused the poor dragon immensely. Hermione was both terribly relieved that she hadn’t attempted to do something silly like attempt to fight the dragon in single combat and mildly terrified of the display of intelligence and power Joanne had just given them. Hermione suspected Rose had given her the idea. Joanne was usually a Gryffindor through and through after all. Stubborn, loud and impulsive. Turning to Rose she found the other girl pale and staring at the Short Snout. The McLaggen girl next to her was doing the same. Taking a glance around it appeared that they were the only ones to do so. Perhaps it was simply from concern for their friend. Or perhaps Hermione had not been the only one to understand the dragon.

Hermione knew how badly Rose could spiral down however so she distracted the other girl with her question. Rose responded with a small smile and a declaration that Joanne could be rather intelligent when she wated to be. Particularly when she was faced with an opponent. Unfortunately for Joanne she was a half-blood bastard. Her scores from the Durmstrang headmaster and indeed the ministry representative reflected that much to Hermione’s disdain.

Their attentions were taken as the next dragon and its eggs were brought out, the dragonologists having been easily able to wrangle the still-confused Swedish Short Snout out of the ring. The next to face their dragons was the French witch. She placed the Welsh Dragon to sleep before taking its egg and leaving with it. The fact that the dragon accidentally breathed flames on the girl was simply hilarious. Since she had easily extinguished them.

Then came Krum. It had been too painful to watch what he did to the poor dragon. Blinding it and causing it to trample its own young in its confusion. He had had points subtracted for this. But it was not enough in Hermione’s view. Not now that she understood that dragons were sapient. That they might genuinely grieve their young. That they would almost certainly seek revenge.

Harry’s dragon was brought in next. The Hungarian Horntail. The most dangerous of them all. Hermione’s heart beat so fast that she almost thought it might burst of her chest. Harry wasn’t ready for this. The three other champions were in their final year at their respective schools. At 17 years old they were already considered adults in the wizarding world. Harry was barely 14. He wasn’t ready for a Welsh Dragon let alone a Hungarian Horntail. It didn’t matter that they had faced Voldemort before. That he had slayed a basilisk. At some point Harry’s luck was sure to run out. It was all a matter of when that would happen. How it would happen. And a Hungarian horntail protecting their clutch was certainly dangerous enough to prove deadly to Harry.

As Harry’s eyes fell on where they were sitting Hermione could see that he obviously knew that fact as well. Hermione watching with dread as the Horntail crouched silently above the entrance to the arena. It had obviously figured out where its opponent would be entering from. As it readied itself to pounce Hermione drew her breathe. Then suddenly everything was different. The Horntail cocked its head as if hearing something and moved its eyes over to them. Then, instead of pouncing as it had been preparing to, the dragon thwacked its tail through the air towards Harry. At Hermione’s side Rose was frowning and staring intently at the dragon, eyes locked on its. Hermione of course was too focused on Harry and the Horntail to notice this.

As Harry summoned his broom and began to soar through the air, the dragon hot on his tail but for some reason not breathing flames at him Hermione began to relax. She may have not been a fan of brooms (why would you trust something to carry you through the air?! If she had had wings it would have been a different story entirely. But Hermione did not. Obviously.) but Harry often appeared to have been born on one. If he was going to have a chance of beating the Horntail it would be in the air.

As Harry swept in and seemingly easily grabbed the golden egg from amongst the real jet-black eggs Hermione grew nervous. The dragon appeared to be playing with him. And not as a hunter plays with its prey, more as a sibling plays with their brother. Surely it could not be so easy? Hungarian Horntail’s were some of the most aggressive and fearsome dragons of all. Of course, Hermione had not heard this dragon speak so perhaps this one was an oddly passive member of its species. But still. Harry should not have gotten away so easily. As she thought this the black dragon let Harry be and curled up about its eggs. Seemingly sated.

Harry’s victory had been null. Harry had worn against an opponent that appeared not to truly have wanted to protect the golden egg in the first place.

The entire stadium was whispering in confusion. Harry had still succeeded in obtaining the egg however, and for that he received points. But not so many as he would have received if the dragon had seriously attacked him.

All in all, Hermione left that day more confused than ever. Dragons were evidently much more intriguing than she had been led to believe.


	14. Little Talks

29 November 1994

When left to her own devices Hermione had a bad habit of becoming enveloped in her studies and/or research. Tonight was no exception. While the mystery of her biological parents had finally been solved and it would not be too long before she was reunited with them early next summer, the question of whom the wizard Arthur was remained. As did Hermione’s many questions regarding wizarding society and politics. As such she had been reading through the many books Harold had lent her from the Slughorn family library ever since the end of the first task. Jo and Harry had insisted that they would be fine figuring out the second task on their own, calling it a family bonding experience, so Hermione didn’t have to worry about that at least. Of course, with Ron being so occupied by his girlfriend Lavender Brown and Rose being much too overcome with melancholia to be at all sociable Hermione was regularly by her lonesome these days. Usually she found herself attempting not to think about it by enveloping herself in her books. Today had been worse than most days however, no one had thought to interrupt her to tell her it was time for supper. So, Hermione found herself up at midnight, in a corner of the library far away from where Madam Pince had been before she herself left for the day. Luckily for Hermione she did eventually tire and the library itself was never locked at night.

Hermione’s stomach grumbled at her as she slowly packed away all of the books, she’d been reading that evening. Yawning Hermione made her way out of the library and towards the Hufflepuff dorms. She’d recently discovered their location and the fact that the castle kitchens were located right next door to them. Hermione had her eyes mostly shut as she entered the room and dropped the heavy bag she’d bought for her books on the floor. As she opened her eyes and took her seat Hermione almost jumped right back up again seeing that she was not in fact alone. Sitting close to her, a sandwich about to go into his mouth was none other than Draco Malfoy. Now in any other situation a spat would have likely followed their meeting. But Hermione was tired. Mentally and physically. So, she simply raised a hand in greeting and asked one of the house elves if they would be so kind as to make her some food. Hermione had tried to free them from their enslavement but to her chagrin her efforts had not been appreciated whatsoever. Seeing how upset she had made them Hermione had backed off, against her better judgement.

Out of the corner of her eye Hermione saw Draco raise a hand in return before taking a bite of his sandwich. Hermione allowed herself a small smile. Draco really wasn’t a bad person after all. The smile quickly turned into a frown as she considered the possibility that he was only being so polite because Harold had told Slytherin of her parentage. Of course, to the best of her knowledge Harold hadn’t said anything but one never knew these days. She was torn from her thoughts by the appearance of some food. Which she gratefully took from the house elf delivering it.

Hermione ate her late supper almost as fast as Ron and Harry. Draco looking on deep in thought, slowly eating his own sandwich, followed by an apple. Before Hermione knew it she was finished. Turning back to Draco before she left she said goodnight.

“See you around Draco.”

“Yeah. See you Hermione.”

Yawning happily Hermione made her way back to the Gryffindor dorms and her much missed bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4 December 1994

It was only a couple of days later that Hermione found herself in the same situation as she had been before. Only this time she had barely missed supper and her temper was rising. Ron was still too obsessed with Lavender to pay any attention to Hermione whatsoever. In addition, Harry and Jo had become nigh inseparable while planning for the second task. Hermione understood it, really, she did! But a hello once a day surely wasn’t so much to ask for?

She wasn’t so surprised to see Draco this time. It appeared that he frequented the kitchens more than she had known before.

“What’s the matter Granger? You look like you’re about to avada someone.”

“If I look like I’m about to avada someone did it cross your mind that maybe you shouldn’t fucking talk to me!” Hermione snapped at him

Draco’s eyebrows rose to new heights in response to her words and tone.

“Suit yourself then Princess.” He turned back to his sandwich.

Halfway through the meal that the house elves had presented her with Hermione addressed him again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault Harry and Ron can be such UGHH” Even with her vast vocabulary Hermione could not find the right words to describe how she was feeling about her best friends in that moment.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her apparently in question. How was it that all wizards could do that??!

No matter. Hermione wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to rant. Even if it was to Draco Malfoy of all people.

“Harry and Ron have just been so distracted recently. I understand why. Of course, I do. Harry deserves to spend as much time with his family as he wants to, particularly with the Triwizard tournament. I can forgive him for being so absent. But Ron!”

Draco was nodding along at everything she said.

“Ron is so freaking obsessed with Lavender that he doesn’t even say good morning to me anymore! I wish he could understand how much it hurts. To see them so happy together. To know that they all have someone to go to the yule ball with except me. Even Rose and Jo have dates! And then there’s me. Seamus offered to take me, bless his heart, but I wouldn’t want to do that to him and Dean. Besides, knowing what I do of wizarding society that might be setting me up for a marriage none of us would enjoy.” Hermione sighed.

“And that’s not even getting into the impossible research task I’ve set myself. Who knew there were so many fucking wizards called Arthur!!?”

“I get it. I’m going to have to go to the dance with Pansy. She’s great as a friend but…And that’s not even getting into my parents’ expectations of me. They want me to get Susanna fucking Slytherin to agree to a marriage contract. Susanna Slytherin!! I mean I have a pretty high chance of doing it, but it just feels so wrong to. She’s not even 13 yet. She’s fucking 12. Who seduces a fucking 12-year-old! I mean if I were a year younger it probably wouldn’t seem so weird. But I’m almost 15. Two years is a tiny age gap when we’re adults but right now?” Draco sighed

Hermione nodded along sympathetically.

“Life sucks?”

“Cheers to that Granger.”

“Carrow.”

“What?”

“I’ve recently found out that I was one of the taken. Hermione Carrow is my birth name.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Your dad’s a shitbag. Fair warning.”

Hermione sighed. She wasn’t surprised at that.

“I see.”

“Well. I suppose that gives you more options now. You could always go with your cousin.”

Hermione sighed. “There’s no way he would agree. Outside the family you’re the only one who knows. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be going with his betrothed. Whoever she is.”

“I sincerely doubt that considering he’s betrothed to my little sister and she’s not even at Hogwarts yet.”

Hermione shot a surprised look at him.

“Yeah I know. Pot meet kettle. But I haven’t let him anywhere near her since Father told me we were to be brothers in law.”

“I suppose I should ask him them. As cousins only of course.”

“Sure. I wouldn’t argue too much if you took him off my hands. Personally, I think he’s much too old for Cassie.”

Hermione shot him a disgusted look. “Ew. He’s my cousin Draco.”

At that Draco let out a loud chuckle. Hermione blushed. She’d never heard him laugh in a non-spiteful way before. It was beautiful.

“Oh Mione. You have a lot to learn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah. got a job so writing has taken the back seat again. Enjoy!


	15. The House of Lestrange

3 December 1994

Roderick stared at himself in the mirror and sighed. There was no light in his eyes these days. The shadows circling his eyes and his slowly thinning figure were not the only signs of his misery after all. Roderick was alone. His wife was usually locked away in her rooms, his mistress away at Hogwarts and his daughters either too quiet to even talk to him, able to sense the tension in their house at even their young age or locked away with cousins which would never allow his visitation. He had become estranged from Henry since their graduation, things had been tense between them ever since Gideon and he had broken up. And Cygnus was too wary to step foot anywhere near him. Cygnus was very obviously a bastard after all, and no one was entirely sure whether he was pureblood or half. In Cygnus’ mind his friendship with Roderick wasn’t worth risking the anger of Lord Malfoy. Roderick couldn’t blame him for that. His uncle was evil incarnate. Perhaps even worse than Voldemort. After all. His Uncle was the one bringing the so-called dark lord back.

And the King had refused to even attempt to stop him.

Gods knew Roderick couldn’t do it alone. It would be suicide to even attempt to stop them. Roderick was sure. Though suicide was beginning to look rather tempting right now. Roderick had foolishly thought that the King would intervene before Voldemort could be reborn. But as the months drug on and on and the creature remained in his Uncle’s care that scenario was looking less and less likely. The King would not intervene. He would sit back and see what would happen. Look on as Roderick’s world burned and millions of beings, magical and non-magical alike, died screaming. And he’d probably have popcorn as he watched. The King was perfectly powerful enough to stop it all. But he wouldn’t. And Roderick simply couldn’t comprehend why. Riddle’s spectre had said that the Dark King didn’t truly care for them. But if he did not then why would he have fought Grindelwald? Why would he sometimes look so softly at humans? Why would he smile so at Roderick?

“We need to talk.”

Roderick glanced away from his own face to see his wife standing behind him. The look on her face much more severe than any Roderick had seen before. Artoria knew just as much as Roderick about the goings on of the Dark side’s impending civil war.

“Wife.” He acknowledged her before turning back to his reflection.

“It will not be safe for me to remain here for much longer. Nor for the children. You know this as well as I do. We have sent Rosie and her daughter to safety. What about our girls? What about the baby? What about me?”

Roderick closed his eyes and brought his hands to his head. He groaned and rubbed his temples.

“I know Artoria. Believe me I do. Lily will be safe with the Prince family. They are royal descendants after all. And Rose is at Hogwarts so hopefully…”

He raised his head from his hands and stared at his face.

“But you are my wife. My wife who is pregnant with a son and heir to House Lestrange.” He turned on his heels and faced her.

“No where will ever be safe for you. Not while my Uncle and his Lord live. You know this as well as I do Artoria.”

“I had feared you would say that. How long until they tire of me?”

“You are relatively safe at least until the child is born. Perhaps longer if we can convince them that you have turned.”

Artoria frowned at him. “I am a daughter of House White. I doubt that will be possible.”

He sighed. “As do I.” He groaned and fell to the floor head in his hands.

“I’m sorry Artoria.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Whatever for husband? Your numerous affairs? That I was ever forced to marry you in the first place? Or something else entirely?”

“All I suppose. I should have tried harder.”

Artoria snorted in amusement and walked up to him.

“No, my Lord Husband.” She placed a hand on his face bringing his eyes up to meet her own.

Artoria smiled a bittersweet smile at him.

“We should have tried harder. To escape this marriage or to make it work.”

Roderick chuckled bitterly. “I suppose you’re right.”

She rose from her position squatting in front of him and brushed her skirts off. The very picture of a pureblood lady.

“Even if I am doomed, we must be able to make a good attempt to save at least one of our children.”

“I didn’t realise you cared.”

“I may not be too fond of what they represent. But they are still my children Roderick.”

“I understand. The easiest would be Druella.”

Artoria nodded. “The second daughter. Yes, you are quite correct.”

“I suppose we should begin planning, now shouldn’t we?”

“Indeed. Mark my words Roderick. I will not allow all of us to be killed by the traitors. I simply shan’t.”

“You know as well as I do that, we may not get that choice.”

Artoria ignored him as she walked out of the door. Roderick’s hands met his head once more.

“Fuck.”


	16. Yule Ball

Harry felt a little bit like a loose end. He’d ended up going to Yule with one of the Patil twins, he still wasn’t sure which one he was with, while Ron stuck with Lavender, Rose went with Krum, Jo with McLaggen as friends and Hermione with someone Harry didn’t recognise. They all appeared quite happy. Except Harry. Harry really didn’t want to be here. Especially not when all of his friends and family were so preoccupied with their own dates. The Patil he was with looked as miserable as he did as they watched the dancing. The first dance had gone well enough, well not as well as the other champions but unlike Krum, Delacour and McLaggen Harry hadn’t exactly been trained in ballroom dancing as a child. But then the main event had begun and his friends were suddenly hanging off of their partners paying no attention to him. Ron was in the dress Robes that Lavender had bought for him.

Ron and Lavender were kissing in a corner, something both completely unsurprising and something Harry definitely didn’t need to see. Ew. Glancing over Harry saw Krum chatting with Rose, they looked to be having an intriguing conversation. Though Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that one of his sister’s looked to be close to dating someone. Harry supposed that Rose was 17 and that was plenty old enough to start dating but still. Harry shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy move closer to Mione and her date. His eyes narrowed. Her date was wearing black dress robes with no obvious house colours but Hermione’s dress was green. Earlier in the evening Harry had thought that the colour suited her and thought no more of it. But now. Perhaps the boy was a Slytherin. Harry definitely didn’t know what to think about that. Hermione dating a Slytherin. Probably a pureblood too from the sneer on Pansy Parkinson’s mouth. Nearby to the impending disaster stood Miss Slytherin and her date Leo FitzBlack, who had gone from very favoured by the House last year, to less favoured when his brother/cousin Turais arrived and back to favoured once Susanna Slytherin showed an interest in him. Harry noted with disdain that the pair appeared to be amused by the entire situation., Typical Slytherins.

The conversation between Hermione’s date and Malfoy was cold and perhaps a tad aggressive from the way Mione was frowning and glancing between the two. Then Malfoy nodded at the two cordially and offered his arm to his date, Pansy Parkinson. As the two left to talk to the other Slytherins Harry saw that Ron had noted the conversation and was on his way over. He was as red as their house colours and almost appeared to be steaming from his ears.

“Shit” Harry glanced over to Patil before getting up. As he quick walked towards them his way was blocked by Viktor Krum.

“Lord Potter.”

“Hi there Krum.” Harry glanced over the young man’s shoulder.

“I hope zat you do not mind ze interruption. But I must ask you something.”

“Sure sure.”

“How is ze wizarding Britain with ze two wives.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Only. Ze Rose flower. She is a great beauty and I vould like her to be my second.”

Oh HELL no. Krum was not about to take his big sister as a second wife. Did Rose even know?

“I’m afraid I must decline you there Krum. You won’t be marrying my sister.”

In front of him Krum’s eyes widened as he spluttered. Behind Krum Ron was screaming at Hermione and at her date.

“I apologise Lord Potter. I vas not knoving. Of course, you are free to do with your sister as you vish.”

“I’m sorry what? My SISTER isn’t my property. She can do whatever she bloody well likes!” and now Harry was shouting too.

“Zen I may ask her for her hand in marriage?”

“Fine! Now if you please!” Harry barged past him to try and stop Ron before he said anything he’d regret.

Unfortunately, Harry was too late. By the time he arrived Hermione had run of crying. Her date was in a shouting match with Ron. And Malfoy had excused himself from Parkinson.

“UGHH.” Harry groaned to the sky. He really didn’t want to be here.

A traitor. That’s what Ron had called her in so many words. Just because she had gone to the yule ball with her cousin Harold instead of going by herself. Harry curled in tighter on herself as she sat upon the cold stairs leading to one of Hogwarts’s many unused rooms. How could he say such a thing? Hermione had thought that they were friends. That he would be fine with whomever she went with. Just as she had been fine with his relationship with Lavender. Instead he had shouted at her and accused her of sleeping with the enemy. How _could_ he.

Against her will tears left her eyes. She heard as someone sat next to her. She didn’t bother looking up at them as they held an arm against her shoulder. Crying heavily, she fell against their shoulder.

“There, there, Carrow. Everything will be all right in the end.”

It was Draco Malfoy. Hermione found she really didn’t care it was him. In fact against her better judgement she found herself curling into his hug even more. Draco smelt like new parchment and freshly mown grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeey. Yeah so job + second year makes me a busy girl. Sorry.  
> Should I tell Harry or will you?


	17. Interlude

Alistair was bored. Not that that was particularly new. After the first 200 years of life the majority of one’s time was spent mind-numbingly bored. Alistair chucked the book he was reading over his shoulder as he made his way over to the grand staircase. He figured that he might as well piss off his bastard of a husband and their half-brother by playing the bagpipes. Though unfortunately Arthur had become seemingly immune to them over the past century. Alistair still remembered the days when he'd throw a knife or five at him at the slightest hint of bagpipes. Those were the days.

As he turned around on the staircase, he came face to face with possibly the least surprising thing he’d ever see. Arthur Kirkland-Beilschmidt. The Kingdom of England. The great British Empire. Was drunkenly balancing on the banister.

“What are you doing?” Alistair said deadpan.

“Balancing.”

“Uhuh. You realise you have wings don’t you husband?”

“Mhm.” Arthur vaulted over himself and landed on his hands.

“For a genius you’re a fucking idiot.”

“An idiot who managed to conquer half the fucking world my dear.”

“A quarter at most. And you managed to lose it. Every, single, colony.”

“Oops.”

“Is that what you said when you allowed that twin of yours to massacre millions?”

A crackle filled the air and Scotland felt a shiver run down his spine. Evidently his half-joke had hit a nerve. He was reminded that while England may have lost almost all of his [their] empire he was still one of the most powerful Illumin to have ever walked upon this planet. Argentina had found that out the hard way. Before he could blink a clawed hand wrapped around his neck and giant canines bared down at him.

“Do not speak of him.” England hissed. “You forget _dear_ husband. I was the first to sign the death warrants of billions with my failures and my successes. I’ve seen tens of thousands of dead at my own claws. You know that better than most. If you wish to speak ill of genocidal maniacs perhaps you should look closer to home and farther from the dead.”

“What happened in 1000 was not your fault. Though I doubt you will ever believe me on that. And you and I both know we’re better off without the witch, and her spawn.”

The hand dropped from his neck.

“We’re her spawn too brother.”

“Indeed. Though luckily for us we’re not pure Kirklands.”

“Hmmm. I’d always thought it was more a celt thing than a Kirkland one.”

“If that was the case don’t you think I’d have burned more people alive than I have.”

Arthur snorted “Fair.”

“Speaking of genocidal maniacs. Our most recent one’s coming back.”

Arthur groaned. “I **_know_**. You don’t have to remind me every two seconds.”

“Don’t you think we’ve let him kill enough of our people?”

“Why do you think I care? What’s a couple of thousand humans to me?”

“Nothing at all. Well. Something at all. If you really didn’t give a shit Lily Evans would never have been born.”

“How do you know I didn’t simply find her grandmother hot.”

“I have no doubt you did. But then directing me to her mother…Two generations of a pureblood Illumin sire. The witch was likely more Illumin than human. And then Tom Riddle was swept away by her son. You cannot call that a coincidence.”

“I’m sorting it ok Alistair. Stop your worrying and get back to your bloody bagpipes will you. I ought to have killed you when I had the chance.”

“You should have, in all likelihood. But you didn’t. Time and time again you haven’t. If I didn’t know any better, I’d even say you loved me _dear_ husband.”

Arthur sneer-smiled at him.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d call it a misplaced fondness at best.”

Against his will Alistair felt his lips twitch upwards. He made his way past Arthur towards his bagpipe room. He’d formed quite the collection over the centuries. Before Arthur started getting any ideas about their relationship he shouted behind his back.

“By the way I want a divorce!”

“FUCK OFF AND DIE ALREADY YOU CELTISH TWAT!”

“BURN ALIVE YOU GERMAN CUNT!”

Alistair snorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say. I was inspired. Just in case anybody thought that the countries were purely eccentric good guys. They've seen (and done) some messed up shit. Yay England and Scotland's EXTREMELY dysfunctional relationship and almost certainly abusive marriage.  
> Oh and before anyone starts accusing me of anything I’m not trying to make light of literal genocide. Just showing how fucked the mindset of countries would be.


	18. Lavender and Hermione

26 December 1994

As Hermione curled up under her duvet she cried. Seemingly the entirety of Gryffindor House had turned on her upon learning the identity of her Yule Ball date. She still had Harry and Rose of course, and there was still hope that it might blow over but it hurt. These were the people she’d helped with their homework. Her friends. Her second family, or perhaps her third now. And with one decision they’d turned on her.

“Your choices are more varied than I’d thought.” Lavender Brown said from the bed next to hers.

“What do you mean by that then.” Hermione spat at her.

“I’ve though on it and decided. You don’t know how lucky you are Granger. All the freedom in the world and now friends with pureblood Slytherins. Certainly sly of you, I’ll admit to that. But I can’t see myself doing anything else if I was in your position. Slytherins hold the keys to power after all.”

“Are you saying that as a Gryffindor or a pureblood.”

“A bit of both I suppose. It’s what they’re bred for. Gryffindors defend the state. Hufflepuffs care for it. Ravenclaws improve it and Slytherins hold positions of power within it. That’s simply how the world works. Of course, sometimes they overlap. But nevertheless. As a muggleborn its wise to get in with them.”

“What freedom do I have Lavender? I make a single misstep and the wrath of an entire house comes down upon me! Why is there such animosity between houses? If what you’re saying is true then the UK needs all the houses to succeed. Why then are such insane levels of rivalry encouraged here? It makes no sense.”

“I don’t pretend to know too much about politics or government. But I do know what being trapped is. My entire live was set out for me the moment I was born. On the request of my fiancé, I’ll be allowed to graduate after seventh year. But then. I don’t have the options you do Hermione. You can emigrate, marry whom you please. Gods you’re even clever enough that you could get a good job! Even as a muggleborn. Mayhap in 30 years’ time I might be able to do the same. But that’s so far away. And I’ve never been so smart. You know that. And to answer your other question. I have absolutely no idea. I can try and predict your future if you’d like.”

Lavender produced a crystal ball from under her bed and shook it at her encouragingly.

“Thanks Lavender.” She smiled hesitantly. “I didn’t realise you and Ron were already engaged. Don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for that?”

Lavender burst out laughing. “Oh Hermione. I’ve been engaged since I was five. And certainly not to Ron. I’m the second surviving daughter of Lord Brown. Or I was at least.” She fell into melancholy

Hermione paled. “Since you were five? Not to Ron! But…”

Lavender smiled bitterly. “I’m to marry Charles Aiton in summer the year after next. My opinion doesn’t matter. It never has done. No matter how much I may love Ronniekins I will never be allowed to marry him. I should consider myself lucky, mother says. I’ll be the Lady of a noble house. A much _better_ match than I would have had had my sisters survived.”

“Oh Lavender. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No not many do. Rosetta died before I was born, she was only a few months old. And then Amaryllis. She died when I was four. Then Iris, my final sister, she died in childbirth over three years ago now.”

Hermione was shocked into silence. She had been mourning over her own situation so much that she’d forgotten the situation of other. She should have guessed that Audrey Aiton. Nay, Weasley. Had not bee the only pureblood witch to be forced into a marriage she did not wish for in this day and age. But she’d assumed it had been to cover up her relationship with Joanne. If not.”

“Lavender.”

Lavender looked up and smiled bitterly at her. “Yes?”

“How common are arranged marriages in the wizarding world. Only, you and Ron are so perfect for one another and…” Hermione also didn’t want to chance that she herself had a marriage she was bound to honour.

“For purebloods? The vast majority of matches are arranged, though matches become less likely the farther down the line of succession one goes. Often Half-bloods also arrange marriages, as a sort of status symbol, I think. But not so frequently these days. The bloodline must be secured after all. And children simply cannot be trusted to make the right decisions for the House.” She said bitterly.

“When would an heir be promised in marriage then?”

Lavender appeared slightly confused at that. “Usually the decision for the bride, or groom, of an Heir takes place before they are even conceived. Or at least the Houses of choice are. It depends on the situation. Sometimes to secure lines daughters are even especially chosen over sons. That’s usually to bring a branch family which is considered to be getting too prominent back into line. Hence why my niece Iris will remain heiress of House Brown even if she gets younger brothers. In her case the match was decided before either party was born. Initially there had been plans for my brother to marry one of Aster’s sisters. But they all died. So, then it was decided that the first daughter of my brother would marry Aster, and unite the branches. Of course, in other cases matches are decided much later. Malfoy for instance has not yet been betrothed. Really it all depends on the heads of the House.”

Hermione was still stuck on the fact that Lavender’s niece, a baby, was betrothed to their _cousin_. “But that’s incestuous!”

Lavender blinked. “There have been much closer matches than third cousins Hermione.”

Hermione spluttered. Harold had insinuated as such but still. Didn’t they realise how bad inbreeding was? “Wait so certain families only marry certain other families?”

Lavender shrugged “Especially these days. It used to be commonplace for a Slytherin to marry a Gryffindor and visa versa. But ever since the war against Grindelwald those particular arrangements have been slowly declining in practice. And since the war against you know who. Well… practically no Gryffindor has married outside of Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. The wizarding world was worse off than she had thought.

“Though. After the war the ministry mandated the betrothal of a substantial number of dark pureblood children to light children. As both an apology and an attempt to breed away their dark magic. That’s why Neville’s engaged to a Yaxley and Lestrange married a White.”

That…that was messed up beyond measure.


	19. The Second Task

24 February 1995

Courtney McLaggen raised her hands to her cheeks deep in thought. All around her her classmates were cheering in the stand for Harry and Joanne. But neither Rosetta nor Hermione Granger were with them. The youngest of the main line Weasley brothers was sat near to her, obviously stressed out beyond reason, quite understandably. He was gripping onto his girlfriend the Brown’s hand for dear life. Courtney herself had been periodically clenching her fists in her dress robes before she’d become thankful that she was here and not under the Black Lake. Since Courtney had been young entering water for too long had resulted in a smattering of golden scales over her body, particularly her cheeks and back. Unlike her mother Courtney was only a quarter Illumin. But all the same. She was not a pure human. Let alone a true pureblood. No matter how powerful her grandsire was the prejudice against half-breeds and mix-breeds was all the same. She would be socially destroyed if anyone knew. And arising from the depths scattered in gold would be a bit of a giveaway. Even wizards and witches had appeared to forget the existence of Illumer, the sister-species of Illumin and the cause of scales appearing of mixed-breeds when wet. Calling those creatures who resided in the lake mermaids was honestly ridiculous. Joanne and she had figured out the task together and when Julia, Granger and even Rosetta had vanished earlier that morning, well the question of what had been ‘taken’ had become self-explanatory.

Courtney noted Henry Potter jumping into the water his hair frizzy and unkept. It had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gillyweed may have made it so that Harry could breathe but it did nothing the combat how bloody cold the lake was. Honestly! Who made people swim in a lake in the middle of Winter? All things considered Harry was not a happy bunny as he forced himself downwards into the frigid depths. The murky green got even murkier the farther down he went, fish swimming alongside him. All of a sudden, the same beautiful song caught Harry’s ears and he ventured into the kelp forest in front of him. In the darkness Harry could barely dodge as the creature swept past him. It was. Well. From the little of the creature he’d seen, it certainly hadn’t looked akin to what he’d imagined a mermaid would look like. Even less beautiful than the mermaid in the window of the prefect’s bathroom.

Emerging from the kelp forest Harry came face to face with one of the most horrifying things he’d ever seen, and Harry had seen a lot of horrible thing in his short life, floating there limp were two of his sisters and the girl who was all but his sister. And Rose and Hermione. They’d _done_ something to them. For instead of appearing as their normal selves, like the French girl and Julia, they were misshapen. Rosetta was the most severe, turquoise scales were creeping across her entire body, small golden scales appearing between the turquoise on occasion. Hermione had less scales, though still certainly noticeable. All of Hermione’s were golden and Harry was enraged. How _dare_ they. Whatever they had done to his sisters it would neither be forgiven nor forgotten.

Harry was torn. Before him three of his sisters, whom he all loved dearly. And now he was being asked to choose between them. Harry didn’t have to think for long as Joanne swam in, bubblehead charm around her nose and mouth, winked at him and took off with Julia between her arms. Soon after a shark-like Krum ripped Rosetta and all her scales up to the surface, though not before staring at Harry for a while. Curious Harry looked at all of himself he could see and nearly fainted in shock. The same turquoise and gold scales which had been on Rosetta were now beginning to cover Harry’s own body, though there were certainly fewer they were more noticeable on Harry’s own darker skin. Harry shook himself from his stupor and cut Hermione loose. He hesitated. Fleur didn’t appear to be coming. If she didn’t come then…what would happen to her sister. Harry didn’t know. People had died in the Tri-wizard tournament before. Who was he to say that if he left her here Fleur’s sister wouldn’t become yet another death? Harry wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened. So against the mermaids Harry took her too. They appeared to put up almost a token fuss before abandoning their chase of him. As if they were afraid. Harry put that thought to the back of his mind and focused on the journey up. So caught up in his escape from the depths that Harry didn’t even notice when along the way his gillyweed lost its affect. As he broke the surface Harry was confronted by a sea of spectators who’s cheers turned to silence as they caught a better look of those whom had just emerged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Courtney’s eyes widened once as Joanne arose from the lake, Julia safe in her arms. Twice as Viktor Krum arose with a scale covered Rosetta. Perhaps they had more in common than a mutual friend. She then settled back into the tense waiting game along with the rest of the spectators. As time ticked onward Harry Potter had not yet arisen. And then he had and suddenly the cheers died down. Because Henry James Potter. The chosen one. Was a mixed breed like his sister. A mixed breed like Hermione Granger. The supposed muggleborn. How _fascinating_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Pls oh lord let it be a happy one.


	20. Chapter 20

30 February 1995

Rose ate her breakfast in silence. Ever since the second task last month everyone had been staring at her and Harry. Even more concerning some had taken to ignoring Harry entirely in favour of paying attention to Joanne and Julia. Even worse was the attention being paid to Harry’s cousins Victoria and George Potter. As if just because they were…not quite right…they were lesser. As if Harry wouldn’t be around much longer to be the head of his house. Rosetta thought that McCulloch might know more about her, Hermione and Harry’s situation than she was letting on. Her eyes never met any of theirs willingly and when they did, she immediately glanced away nervously. Without the same sneer of disgust that the others directed at them. Oddly enough the same glance was directed at them by a number of Slytherins. One of nerves and submission.

Rose shook her head and continued from her place at the end of the table, away from all other. It was the place where she Hermione and Harry had been relegated to after…the incident. Though they oftentimes found themselves in the company f some of the Durmstrang boys. Ron seemed torn considering that Krum still appeared infatuated with her and Ron and Hermione were his best friends but his brothers Fred and George convinced him to stay away from them. They called them dark witches. They had been so nice beforehand. Et apparently even to those Weasley’s whom accepted Werewolves a scaled hybrid was too much to bear. She stabbed her sausage with a vengeance as Jo appeared in front of her, chucking a newspaper on the table. Rose looked up at her friend, they’d been distant this past few months. Joanne having been too caught up in her newfound fame and ‘friendship’ with McCulloch.

Jo nodded down at the paper.

“Read it.”

There on the front page was a picture of her and Viktor Krum. The title read

**A Dark Truth Revealed? Krum and his hybrid dark witch!**

The article went on to insult her. Calling her a seductress, a witch who consorts with the dark side. Who casts a spell on any handsome boy she finds. A hybrid desperate to take a pureblood wizard to the marriage bed. Worse still they went on to desecrate the memory of her and Harry’s mum. Calling a hybrid wyrm in muggleborns clothing. Rose gasped as tears leaked from her eyes.

“Page 2.”

Tears in her eyes Rose glanced up at Jo before turning back to the newspaper and turning the page. Skimming through it her eyes focused in on one particular piece of new in the new-born section. Lady Artoria Lestrange née White had given her husband a son. A healthy baby boy they’d named Rodolphus Amafinius Lestrange. Rose thought that Jo had shown that to her with the intent to get her to move on from Rod. Which truly she was trying to do. But Rose had gotten another message from the news. Her face paled further as she processed it. Rod would never ever name his son after his deatheater father. This was a warning from him and Artoria to all those who knew them well enough to know their true characters. House Lestrange was expecting Voldemort to rise again. And soon.

She dropped the paper from her fingers. Before it had hit the table, visions crossed her eyes. It was the graveyard again. A maze darker than pitch. A snake like man with demon red eyes. A flickering figure lay dead on the floor. Sometime Harry, sometimes Jo, sometimes Viktor and sometimes ever Delacour.

“NOOOO!!! He returns! He will return! No! No! Gods please no!!!”

Rose barely felt the hands grasping at her. Trying to wake her from her frenzy. She was still there. She looked about and saw only shadows where the faces of her peers should have been. So many dead. All of them dead. Her baby. Her baby. Where was her baby?

To the outside world Rosetta Evans looked as if she had gone quite mad. Whimpering as she rocked ack and forth. Muttering beneath her breath as her friends and family tried desperately to draw her out. Her wails had stopped soon but the teaches were still rushing to her. Even Professor Snape appeared concerned as he practically ran to her side. They watched as the hybrid was carefully placed into a sleep and levitated by the Professors off to the hospital wing, her friends and family following shortly behind.


End file.
